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Author: Musings Story: The New Professor Rating: Teens Setting: AU Status: WIP Warning: This chapter contains mature subject matter. Reviews: 7 Words: 160,238
A/N #1: The outtake, set between the end of Ch 15 and the start of Ch 16, is posted at TheBroomCupboard.net. You must be 17 years of age or older to access that site. I do think, however, that if you are not able to access the site, you'll understand what has happened. This chapter is dedicated to Annissa Simone and her parents. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The rays of the mid-morning sun blazed through Ginny's closed eyelids as she slowly came awake. Groggier than she'd been in ages, she peered at the clock on her mantle. It was nearing ten in the morning, and she needed to get up and start her Sunday morning routine of reviewing reports from the Gryffindor prefects. As she made to shift the covers from her body, she became cognizant of the heavy weight of Harry's arm circling her waist and flushed with the memories they'd created in the night. And in the morning. She felt as though her entire body glowed in the darkness of her bed. Lord, she'd acted like a wanton. Harry's arm tightened around her waist as he shifted to spoon against her body. As he moved, he stirred the scent of their lovemaking which had clung to the bedclothes, and she barely contained the shudder of longing that wracked her body. If you intend on getting anything done at all today, you'd better get up now, she thought to herself. She gently shifted from underneath his arm and gingerly moved the covers back to free herself. As she swung her legs over the side of the bed, she winced slightly; the muscles along the inside of her thighs were stiff and sore. Another flush tinted her cheeks – this slight discomfort was one more reminder of their night together that she knew she would carry for days. She padded over to the wardrobe and took out her dressing gown to conceal her nakedness. Once covered, she turned to look at the man who'd shared her bed the night before. He'd turned onto his stomach, the sheet creeping down until it rested at the small of his back. While his summer's tan was beginning to fade, the contrast between his skin and the whiteness of her sheets was thrilling, more erotic than she could have ever imagined. His hair was a wild tangle of jet strands rioting over the pillow and she could still remember how they'd felt slipping through her fingers. How his back, well-muscled and lean, had shivered as she embraced him during their joining. She was on the verge of casting off her dressing gown to crawl back into the bed next to him when she almost tripped over Peri. "Dammit!" she hissed, glaring at her cat, who had planted himself directly in front of her while she'd been preoccupied. "What do you want?" He blinked, turned his head to look at the bed and sniffed in what had to have been distain. "God, just what I need," she said as she stooped to pick him up. "A jealous cat." She scratched him under his chin and he closed his eyes, his whiskers twitching with pleasure. "I know, it's sudden," she said as she walked into the en suite with him in her arms, "and I don't know if I should say ‘get used to it' quite yet, but things are going to change around here, Peri." With a final scratch under his chin, she set him down on the counter top, poured a dishful of water and set it down next to him. Peri purred like a freight train, gave her a sturdy head-butt and leaned down to drink. As she stepped into the shower, the ramifications of the past twenty-four hours began to crystallize in her mind. She acknowledged she'd rushed things. If they'd been able to stick to their plans to go to Hogsmeade after the match, they wouldn't have wound up back here. She would have kissed him blind, of course, but that would have been that. Instead, she'd allowed the emotions she'd felt during the crisis at St. Mungo's to sway her habitually-rational mind. And oh, how she'd been swayed. What on earth must he think of her now? She was midway through washing her hair when she heard the door open. She peered over the top of the shower door and saw him smiling in at her. His hair was a wild tangle and his glasses – which had stayed on all night, she remembered with a tingle – were slightly askew on the bridge of his nose. She willed her eyes to stay fixed on his face as he walked up to the glass door. Merlin, it should be illegal for a man to look this good so early in the morning. "Good morning, minx" Harry said, his voice scratchy from lack of use. Ginny felt her cheeks color at the term. She could get to like it very much. "Can I join you?" "Uh…um…" she stammered, "I really need to get this soap out of my hair. Why don't you start a fire, and I'll be out in just a moment, please?" She flashed him what she hoped had been a convincing smile. Her heart twisted as a furrow appeared between his brows. After a moment's hesitation, he returned her smile, although it didn't quite reach his eyes. "All right, Ginny," he said quietly. He ran the tip of his finger down her cheek before turning and exiting the room. "What a mess," she muttered to herself and slid back underneath the warm spray of the shower. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ When Harry had woken to the sound of the shower running, he'd smiled. He knew better than to hope for a reprise of their time inside the en suite earlier that morning, but a man could dream. He'd risen, stretching his back and lightly scratching his belly, which had groaned rather loudly: he was ravenous. Well, it was a busy night, he'd thought to himself, warmth flooding his cheeks. He'd looked around the room a bit in the hopes of finding something to snack on but had only come across some of Peri's kibble. He wasn't that hungry. He'd thought of having Dobby bring them a tray of toast, tea and fruit, but as tempting as that thought had been, he figured Ginny would flay him alive if he had. But, he'd mused, it wouldn't hurt to ask. Wrapping the top sheet from the bed around his waist, he'd tip-toed over to the partially-opened door and peered inside. He'd swallowed, seeing the shadowy silhouette of her body through the glass door, her hair a mass of soapy curls atop her head. Whatever his best intentions had been, his body had had the nerve to tighten in response. "I am a hound," he'd muttered to himself as he pushed the door open. Her eyes had met his, deep brown, surprised, slightly aroused, but troubled. Seconds later, her words had gone on to confirm his suspicions: she was having misgivings. Now, seated in the chair next to the fireplace, he thought about their night together. To be completely honest, their lovemaking had exceeded any fantasy he may have ever had. If anything, it had confirmed that his feelings for her had grown deeper over the years they'd been apart and that he was right to return. During the hours he'd spent at the hospital, he'd begun to glimpse the possibility of a future with her, with her family. If only he were given a chance. He thought about the look he'd just seen in Ginny's eyes and knew he should have had the sense not to accept her offer last night. But he'd been thinking with his heart – and your hormones, a little voice prodded – not his head. He just hoped she wouldn't turn him away. Not now. He was startled from his thoughts by a glimmer of movement out of the corner of his eye. He whipped his head around to find Periwinkle walking towards him, tail high in the air. Harry followed the cat's progress until he jumped up to sit on the arm of the overstuffed chair to glare at him. He remembered Peri's grumble from the night before and decided to tread carefully. "Hello, Periwinkle," Harry offered, raising his hand to stroke the cat's sleek black coat. Periwinkle growled, his eyes narrowed to slits. Harry froze. So much for being careful. Time to change tactics. He removed his hand and turned to face the cat. "All right, then. You and I were friends, Peri. That, I know, because you always said hello to me at meals and I've seen you skulking around the Astronomy Tower a time or two." Peri continued to glare. "Fine," he said softly, leveling the cat's glare with his own. "I also know you're fairly annoyed with me because I probably interrupted your normal sleep routine, but you should know I'll not apologize for it." Peri sat up a little straighter, his eyes widening. Harry had to chew the inside of his lip to keep from laughing. He cast a glance at the door to the en suite and leaned closer to the cat. "The truth is I love your mistress very much, but it will take some time before she trusts me enough to love me in return. I hurt her terribly once. I don't intend on doing so ever again." Peri blinked twice. "I'm out of my mind," Harry muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Sitting here talking to a cat." He looked at Peri again and shrugged. "Give me a chance?" Peri chirped once and bashed Harry in the nose with a head-butt, sending his glasses skittering across the floor. "Bloody hell!" Harry yelped, seeing stars behind his closed eyelids. He rose from the chair, squinting to see where his glasses had fallen. Rubbing his nose with one hand, he held out the other. "Accio glasses!" he cried, catching the frames as they landed in his outstretched hand. Returning them to his nose, he turned to see the cat curled up in the armchair. "Ruddy cat." He'd just re-tied the sheet around his waist when Ginny emerged from the en suite, rubbing what must have been lotion into her hands because the scent of lilies filled the room. I won't be able to get her scent out of my mind for days, he thought to himself as he breathed it in. Or the way she looks right now. She was wrapped in a rich purple dressing gown that shimmered as the sunlight touched it. It looked so soft that all he wanted to do was reach out and touch it, and her. Her hair, still damp from her shower, lay in thick, mahogany waves around her shoulders. Her face was smooth and shining from her bath and a pale rose color played along the apples of her cheeks. Her narrow feet were bare, her toes painted a delicate shade of pink, something he had been delighted to discover during their mutual explorations of one another's bodies in the night. He loved her toes. He loved everything about her. "Hi," she said, tipping him a shy smile. His heart did a somersault. "Hello yourself," he said, walking up to her and slipping his arms around her waist, his hands sliding against her dressing gown. Just as I thought, he thought to himself – warm, thick, very sensual. He brushed a kiss across her lips and was relieved to feel her lean into him, her fingers slipping through the hair at the nape of his neck. He broke their kiss to draw her body closer against him, lingering in the embrace for as long as he could before pulling slightly back to look at her. "Periwinkle and I were just having a little chat." "Oh, really?" Ginny said, arching a brow at him and looking over at her cat. Harry noticed that Peri had remained curled in the chair but had one gleaming, golden eye open, watching them. "His head is as hard as a sledgehammer," Harry said ruefully. At Ginny's confused look he smiled. "He gave me a head-butt in the nose." Ginny snorted, pulling out of his embrace and laughed as she scooped up the cat. "Go ahead, laugh," Harry said, rubbing his nose. "It hurt almost as much as when Ron punched me in the nose that night at the Three Broomsticks." "Your nose is sensitive to pressure because of that little fight," she said with a short sniff. "You've no one to blame but yourself for that one…well, other than Ron, of course." Shaking her head, Ginny walked over to him with Peri in her arms. "Anyway, if Peri gave you a head-butt, that means he likes you." "I'll take your word for it," Harry said, unconvinced. He raised his eyes from the cat to her face. "I'm more interested in knowing if his mistress likes me." Ginny blinked, her cheeks turning a lovely shade of pink as she set the cat back down in the chair. Ordinarily, he would have loved to see her blush, but he was more concerned about her answer to his question. He slipped his arms around her waist. "I couldn't help but notice that you seemed a little skittish earlier. Are you sorry about last night?" "No," she said quickly. A little too quickly. Don't panic, Potter. "Gin, let's sit down," he said. He led her over to the padded bench seat next to the window, his hand riding the small of her back as they walked. As they sat down, she looked up at him and the uncertainty he saw in her eyes made him swallow. "Sweetheart, please, you can tell me. What is it?" "Harry, I don't regret what happened last night," she said softly. "Truth be told, it's a night I've dreamt about many times over the last nine years." He felt like he could breathe again. "Ginny, you don't know how happy I am to hear you say that." As he leaned in to kiss her, she placed her hand on his chest. Confusion, this time tinged with panic, blossomed once again in his chest. "Gin?" "Harry, I feel like I'm on a rollercoaster," she said, reaching down to clasp his hands in hers, "but I want you to understand, so please, hear me out." Willing his heart to stop racing, he nodded his head. "Last night was incredible," she said, her chocolate-brown eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "I don't regret sharing the night with you at all. When we were together that night on the Astronomy Tower, all I'd wanted to do was fall asleep in your arms and wake up with you in the morning. Circumstances, being as they were, made that impossible." "I'm so sorry, Gin," Harry said, bringing one of his hands up to caress her cheek. "There are so many things I wish I could change about what happened during those days." "I know," she said sadly. "But that's a talk for another day. I just want you to know that I'm feeling like I rushed things last night. It wasn't so long ago that you and I were still at odds and I was involved with Christopher. Only this summer you were still gone from my life, as you had been for so many years. And Christopher? Before you came back to us, I'd fancied myself in love with him." Harry's stomach turned. "But less than four months from when we saw one another in McGonagall's office for the first time after nine years, here we are." Her eyes gazed into his. "I don't want to have regrets about last night, I really don't. I just don't want to feel like we're not being intelligent about this, Harry. We've got so much that we need to talk about. I don't want to wind up glossing over all that has happened because we've been blinded by…." "Our hormones?" he offered. She winced. "It's more than that and you know it, Harry," she said smartly. She frowned up at him when he chuckled. "What's so funny?" "Gin, it's nothing, really," Harry said, shaking his head. "I think I was just chuckling over the situation, and maybe out of relief. I hear what you're saying, though." He brushed a kiss along her brow and tipped back to look at her. "We need to think this through and deal with the past before we can start looking at a future. Is that right?" She nodded. "I know that it will take us some time to resolve things from the past," he said, bringing his hand up to cup the side of her face. "I want you to know that last night was the best night of my life, Gin. I hope you know me well enough to know that what we shared together means a great deal to me, and I'll cherish it always." He watched as tears filled her eyes. "We'll take things one day at a time, OK?" She nodded again, only this time she leaned over and kissed him gently. Harry closed his eyes and deepened the kiss, cradling her face in his hands and drinking in everything about that moment, knowing it would have to last him for a while. The future of his dreams was within his grasp – it required honesty and patience for it to become a reality. He wasn't about to blow it now. As they separated, he was happy to see the uncertainty gone from her eyes. Slipping his hands from her face to take her hands, he gave them a gentle squeeze, then rose from his seat and stretched. When he opened his eyes again, he found her staring at his belly. Not as immune to the hormones as she'd like to be, is she? he thought to himself. "I think I should take a shower and head back to my rooms, Gin," he said, a little louder than necessary. She jerked her head up to meet his eyes, her face now the familiar Weasley red he loved so much. Oh, she's fun to tease. "I'll need to transfigure my clothes into something a little less obvious than my Quidditch robes." "Leave that to me," Ginny said, scrambling to her feet and pressing a kiss onto his cheek. "I need to get dressed and check in on things upstairs." Suddenly, she blanched. "Harry, how are you going to get out of here? There must be students crawling the hallways by now!" "It's OK, Gin," he said with a laugh, slipping an arm around her waist as he walked towards the open door of the en suite. "I'll cast a Disillusionment Charm on myself before I leave. Once I'm clear of Gryffindor Tower, I'll duck into an alcove somewhere and remove the charm." When his plan failed to remove the concern from her eyes, he swept her into a hug. "Don't worry – I'll be very careful, I promise," he whispered, pressing a kiss along the side of her neck. "Well, all right," she said with a sigh. She pressed her hands against his chest before he could take advantage of her agreement with another kiss. "Off to the showers, Mr. Potter." "Yes, Miss Weasley," he said, kissing her on the nose. "I'll see you at dinner tonight, okay?" At her nod, he gave her a searing kiss. He delighted in her eager response, losing himself in their embrace for several moments before pulling away from her. She looked completely dazed. With a wink, he whipped off the sheet and turned into the en suite. He heard her spluttering something that sounded suspiciously like "not playing fair" as the door clicked shut. All's fair in love and war, minx, he thought to himself, and I think I may be in for a little of both. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A week and a half later, Ginny found herself sitting at her desk in the Charms classroom, staring out of the window. It was late in the day, and she was supervising Richard Flint as he finished up his detention. Earlier in class, he'd charmed Paige McCleary's textbook to fly around the room, attacking several of her fellow Hufflepuffs before Ginny was able to cast Finite Incantatum. He stood on a ladder next to the floor-to-ceiling bookcases running the length of one of the classroom's walls, re-alphabetizing the books by title without magic. When she'd announced his detention in class, she'd seen the look of loathing in his eyes. When she'd warned him that his continued insolence would result in the loss of more house points, he'd managed to adopt a more-reasonable look. Barely. You would think I had him scrubbing the toilets as surly as he is, she thought to herself. She nibbled her bottom lip as she reviewed her class notes. That's odd, she thought to herself: the total number of detentions and house points she'd taken away from students had gone up over the last week and a half. A thought niggled at the back of her mind as she set her class notes aside and picked up her journal – it was there that she kept record of the house points won and lost for Gryffindor. Her frown deepened as she realized that she'd taken more house points away from students in Gryffindor in the past week than she had since the beginning of term. She shut the book with a snap. Flint jumped, dropping the stack of book he'd carried up to the top of the ladder. "Bloody hell," Flint said, his eyes flashing. "Language, Mr. Flint," Ginny said, her temper already on edge. "Unless you want to lose another ten house points." Silence. "I thought not." As he climbed back down the ladder, Ginny set the journal down on her desk. She'd been unbearable lately. Snippy one moment and sullen the next. It was all Harry's fault. As much as she'd wanted some time to adjust to the change in their relationship, she hadn't wanted him to ignore her. She'd hoped he would have come to her late some night to make love to her until the dawn once again. She'd barely been able to sleep more than a few hours each night and, as a result, she'd become waspish to a fault. Since their night together, Harry had rarely showed up for meals. When he didn't appear, he'd always had a ready excuse – extra Quidditch practice, tutoring for one of his Astronomy students, whatever. And, when he did appear, he'd always treat her with respect and friendship. His eyes, however, had told a different story – he'd wanted her as much as she'd wanted him. He could make her heart beat faster with a glance, a smile, a wink. She'd avoided a scrimmage match between the Hufflepuff and Slytherin reserve teams because she wasn't certain she would have been able to conceal her feelings the moment he appeared to referee. After all, how on earth could she ever see him in his gear and not remember being the one to remove it from his body? Well, someone had to be rational in this situation, she thought to herself. As she'd prepared for bed the night after she and Harry had made love, she'd felt panic-stricken to realize they'd done nothing to protect against a pregnancy. She'd been angrier at herself than Harry – she was a Healer and had just witnessed a birth, for Merlin's sake. Once she'd finished haranguing herself, (much to the entertainment of Periwinkle, who'd sat and watched her with obvious amusement) she'd done the math and flopped onto the bed with a sigh of relief. They'd been incredibly lucky. Sure enough, a week later, she'd felt the first twinges of her menses and had barely contained a yelp of glee. Yet even as she'd been glad to have dodged that particular bullet, she'd experienced a shimmer of wistfulness as the image of her holding the black-haired infant that she'd envisioned at Charlotte's birth played back in her memory. She'd known better, of course – an unexpected pregnancy during their first year as unmarried teachers at Hogwarts was not something they needed to add to the already-mountainous pile of issues to deal with. That Saturday, instead of going to the Quidditch match, she'd gone into Hogsmeade to pick up the necessary ingredients for birth-control potion. It was a difficult potion to create – the ingredient list was vast, and the instructions for brewing it precise – but she'd managed with the help of Peri whose eyes had gleamed a brilliant shade of green when she'd held the cauldron under his nose for a sniff. By the next morning, the potion had sat ready in a crystal bottle on her bedside table. Not that I've needed it, she thought with a frustrated sigh. She stuffed her journal into her briefcase and started to collect the tests she had been marking when she heard a knock on the door. "Come in?" The door swung open to reveal Harry on the other side. Breathe in, breathe out. "Good evening, Professor Potter," she said, her voice wavering slightly over his name. "What can I do for you?" "Good evening, Professor Weasley, I was wondering if I might have a word with you about the O.W.L.s seminar we're putting together," he said, his voice polite and professional. "May I come in?" That voice may be professional, she thought as he stepped across the threshold, but those eyes are not. "Yes, please," she said, willing her pulse to slow down before she exploded. As he shut the door and started towards her, she remembered they were not alone. "Flint? That'll be all for now. Thank you very much." She ripped her eyes away from Harry to see Flint looking between the two of them with rapt interest. "Mr. Flint? Did you enjoy your detention so much that you want to re-alphabetize them by author tomorrow?" Flint shook his head no. "Then I suggest you leave now." He gave her one more look before picking up his belongings and shuffling over to the door, slamming it on the way out. Before the reverberations finished their echo, Ginny was crushed in Harry's arms, his mouth hungrily kissing her as he swept her off her feet. She responded with ferocity, moaning into his mouth as her nails dug into his shoulders. He slid her down his body and she shuddered as she felt the effect she was having upon him, making her wish they were back in her chambers all the more. Her feet once again touched the floor and his kisses drifted down the side of her neck. "Can't stop thinking of you," he muttered between kisses. Ginny shivered in response, stripping the elastic from his hair and diving her fingers through the loosened strands, smiling as he gasped with pleasure. He raised his head to stare at her, his eyes filled with longing and desire. "I tried to stay away, to give you time – " "I've missed you," she said, misery clearly evident in her voice. "I can't stay away, Ginny," he said, pressing urgent kisses along her jaw. "I've been impossible to my students, I almost ripped Remus' head off for asking about you the other day." He stared at her miserably. "I've written you so many notes only to catch Hedwig before she'd been able to fly off to deliver them that she's decided to stay in the Owlery for a while." Ginny laughed, although a part of her felt like crying. "Harry, we can't go on like this!" "I know! That's why I'm here!" he said, releasing his hold on her to pace back and forth. "But I also know that I don't want this just to be about the sex, Ginny. You were right – it's so much more than that for us." Ginny's arms ached with emptiness as she watched him. As much as she hated to admit it, he'd just spoken aloud the crux of the argument she'd had with herself for the past week and a half. "I know we need the time to be a couple again, Gin," he said, walking back over to where she stood and cupping her face in his hands. "It's just knowing that it's so good between us that keeps derailing my brain." "Then let's go out," she said simply. He blinked at her. "What…now?" "No," she laughed, pressing a kiss on his chin and leaning back to look into his eyes. "This weekend. I mean, we were planning on going to Hogsmeade after the match two weeks ago. That would have given us time to be together, as a couple, right?" "Right," Harry said, nodding as he slipped his arms around her waist. "So you're talking about a ‘I'll pick you up, we go out to do something, then we come back, kiss goodnight'…that sort of thing?" "Exactly," she said. "I know the realities of the situation make it…difficult –" He snorted, a half-grin creasing his face and causing a dimple to peek out from his cheek. "Difficult is not the word I was thinking of, love. Impossible is more like it." She nodded in agreement. "Why do you think I stayed away from the pitch last weekend?" "I knew it!" he said with a smile. His eyes changed to a smoky green before he pressed nuzzling kisses along her jaw. "I thought of you the entire time I was getting dressed, Minx. Thought of the look in your eyes as your fingers unbuckled the straps." Ginny's toes curled with pleasure as she felt the brush of his lips against her neck, the slight scratch of his faintly-whiskered cheek against her jaw. She willed herself back from the brink. "Harry?" He raised his head and the look on his face was almost enough to make her toss the rational side of her brain out of the window. "Yes, Ginny?" "You know that I want you, but we need to lay the foundation so that it's not just the wanting." She touched his cheek tenderly. "It's the needing as well." "I understand, Gin. Going out sounds good," he added, snuggling closer to her, brushing a kiss across her lips. "Only one problem." "What?" she murmured. Gods, it was heaven kissing him again, she thought to herself as her fingers slipped through the silken strands of his hair. She wondered how sturdy her desk was. "I promised Ron and Hermione I would come to London to talk this weekend," he said, his hands slipping down to press her hips against his. Ginny's eyes almost crossed, and she barely stifled a moan. She extracted her fingers from his hair, pressed her hands against his chest and pushed. "All right, you sit over there." She pointed to the edge of her desk. He grinned and complied. She walked around her desk and, placing a good meter between them, sat down in her chair. "So, you're going to London?" "I'm planning on talking with them about what happened at the Malfoy's," he said softly. "And to get to know my little goddaughter, of course. Have you heard from them?" She nodded. "Yes – I received a note from Mum earlier in the week. Charlotte is doing just fine, and Hermione is doing well, too." "Gin, would you come with me?" Harry asked. "I think it might be easier to talk about everything that happened with the three of you there. If we were able to leave on Saturday, then perhaps we could have that time alone you were talking about earlier as well." Ginny thought for a moment. Time alone with Harry in London? But what about the sleeping arrangements? a voice hissed in her ear. I'm sure he'd agree to separate rooms if that's what I wanted, she thought to herself. But that's not what you want, is it? "Ginny?" She blinked. "Sorry about that, Harry," she said, giving her head a shake. "I think that sounds like a wonderful idea." He smiled like the sun. "Brilliant, Gin! I'll make the necessary arrangements." He looked into her eyes, desire still clearly simmering in his. "Should I book two rooms then? Because if that's what you want, I'll do it." A quiet smile teased her lips. "One room will be fine, Harry," she said, rising from her chair and walking over to stand next to him. She could see the tension ease from his shoulders at her words. "Now, are you going to have dinner with the rest of us in the Great Hall?" He laughed. "Having meals in my rooms has been fairly boring. I think Dobby's tired of bringing meals I wind up not eating." He stroked her cheek. "I have missed you, Gin." "Me too," she murmured, rising on tip-toe to kiss him softly. "Let's go before I lose all of my good intentions." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "That's my little angel," Hermione cooed as she finished tucking Charlotte into her bassinet, running a finger along her feathery-soft hair. The baby's mouth was pursed into the shape of a bow, and her nearly-translucent lashes lay quietly against her plump cheek. Satisfied that Charlotte would continue drifting to sleep without her, Hermione rose from the edge of the bed with some effort and walked into the bathroom for her lotion. In addition to all of the congratulatory flowers and balloons that had filled their home, Hermione had been touched to receive a package from Ginny that had had nothing to do with the baby: a basket filled with restorative bath salts, shower gels and lotions for her to pamper herself with. The lotion had been a particular blessing since it helped to relieve the tenderness of the incision. The incision. The words filled Hermione with sadness, even as she rubbed the lotion into her skin. Growing up, she'd craved having a brother or sister to talk to, fight with and grow close to. Hermione had always remembered her first visit to the Burrow and had secretly envied Ron for having a houseful of siblings. In Harry and Ginny she'd come as close as an only child could to having a brother or a sister. When she and Ron had married, she'd promised herself to fill their home with as many children as possible. That was not to be. As she'd recuperated from the hysterectomy, she'd had near-constant mental battles with herself. The rational side of her knew that they'd had no choice but to perform the surgery. Otherwise, she wouldn't have lived to see Charlotte, to hear her little sighs and coos, to feel her hungry pulls at her breast, to see the amazement in Matthew's eyes over his new baby sister. Invariably, however, the tears would come. It hadn't helped that she'd been overwhelmed trying to come up with a way to deal with two children, a house, and recover from her surgery once Ron had returned to work following her first week home. The preceding Wednesday had been especially horrible. Matthew was acting like a terror while she tried, unsuccessfully, to straighten things up in the house. Soon, Charlotte began to cry for her afternoon feeding. Suddenly, the tears came from nowhere and she wept uncontrollably. She felt little Matthew clinging to her leg, his cries joining hers as she reached for the phone to call her mother. "Mum, I can't take it," Hermione wailed into the telephone to her mother, near hysterical. "The house is a disaster, I haven't been able to take a shower all morning and the children are making me crazy. Please help!" Within moments, Molly Apparated into the living room. "There, there darling," Molly said, wrapping Hermione in an embrace. "Your mum Flooed me as soon as she got off the fellytone with you. She knew I could make it here faster than she could. She's on her way, though, so don't you fret. Leave the kids to me." She ushered Hermione into the bedroom and nudged her down onto the bed, plucked the baby out of her bassinet on her way to the door, catching it with her heel and pulling it shut behind her. Several minutes passed before Hermione rose from a doze, her eyes puffy and sore. Emma sat beside her, stroking her hair. "Hello, my sweetheart," Emma said with a smile. Hermione's eyes filled with fresh tears. "Mum, it's so hard." "I know, sweetheart," she said, holding Hermione in her arms. "Now, why don't you go into the bath and take a nice long shower. Molly and I will take care of everything, okay?" There had been more moments of unexpected tears, but that one had been the worst. The tears clinging to her eyelashes fell down her cheeks, snapping her back to the present. Her hands lay quiet, cradling her belly. "You've a beautiful family, Hermione," she muttered to herself as she angrily rubbed her cheeks against her shoulders. She finished rubbing in the lotion and washed her hands, pressing the cool tips of her fingers against her forehead. Her whiskey-brown eyes flashed in the mirror. "You're alive and getting stronger every day. These tears have to stop and stop now." "'Mione? Who are you talking to?" Ron's voice called from the bedroom. Dammit. "It's nothing, Ron," she said, picking up a hand towel and blotting her face. She straightened her clothing, plastered a smile on her face and opened the door to find her husband leaning against the doorframe. "Did you pick up the cake from the bakery?" "Yes dear," he said, a look of concern still etched on his features. "I wish there was more that I could do for you, love." He touched her cheek softly. "I hate to see you so sad." The look of devotion on his face was her undoing. She collapsed against him, her tears burning hot against her cheeks and onto his broad chest. She felt his arms wrap tightly around her and she breathed in his scent, hoping to find comfort in its familiarity. She found little. "Hermione, are you sure you're up to this today?" Ron whispered. He began to gently rock back and forth. Within a few moments, she noticed that her tears were subsiding and her breathing was becoming more even. She then realized what he was attempting to do and gave a watery chuckle, leaning back to look up into his eyes. So much concern. "Well, it works with the kids," he said with a slightly defensive shrug. "Point taken," she said, reaching around into his back pocket for his handkerchief. She mopped her eyes and blew her nose, tucking the hanky into her own pocket. "And I heard what you said and the answer is yes. I've been looking forward to having Harry in this house for years." She cocked a brow at her husband. "To be honest, I think the question is are you?" Ron winced. "I think so, love. After everything that happened at hospital, I know it's something we have to do." She frowned up at him. "I don't feel like pummeling him, if that's what you're worried about." "No, I've your promise you won't do anything like that again," she said with a nod as she moved out of his embrace and walked over to the wardrobe to find a new top to wear. "Ginny's coming with him, you know." Silence. She frowned, pulling her head out of the wardrobe to find him staring at her, his expression unreadable. "You heard me, didn't you?" "Yes," he said, his voice clipped. Hermione cast another drying charm on her bra – damn breast milk – and pulled on a butter-yellow top. "Ron." "Well?" he said, pacing back and forth. "I just don't know how I feel about all of that." "You mean the fact that your sister's taken up with him again, right?" "Hermione, you make it sound like I'm Dad, waiting at the door with my wand drawn or something, for God's sake." Hermione snorted. "No, your father would be standing at the door with his arms outstretched in welcome and you know it." Her expression changed when she saw the concern in his eyes. She pressed close to hold him, running her hand along his strong back. "Ginny's a big girl now, Ron. You and your brothers have always had difficulties seeing her as a grown woman." She pulled back to look up into his eyes. "After everything that happened at St. Mungo's, and all of what she did to help me…help us, I'd hoped that had changed." "And it has, ‘Mione! It's just…" "What, Ron? You know he loves her. And despite everything that has happened between them, she loves him." He nodded. "That's what scares me, ‘Mione – that they'll see only that and not the need to re-build the trust. That's the foundation." "You know that deep down they're both sensible people, Ron. They'll get there," she said, standing on tip toe to press her lips against his in a deep kiss, one that made her sigh into his mouth before she was finished. As she pulled back, she looked into his crystal-blue eyes. "We've only to show them how." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Daddy! Come here, please?" Ron smiled as he walked down the hallway towards Matthew's room. As he turned the corner, he struggled to choke back a laugh. His son stood in the middle of his room, naked as the day he was born, his hands on his little hips. "Matty, what are you doing?" "I'm looking at the clothes Mummy picked out for me," he grumbled. "A green shirt? Daddy, I don't like green!" Ron walked into the room and peered around his son. Sitting on Matty's bed was a mossy-green t-shirt. It had what appeared to be a Snitch embroidered in the center. The wings fluttered from time to time. Leave it to Hermione to figure out a charm like that, he thought to himself. "Matthew, what do you mean you don't like green? You wore a green cap the other day when you and Grandmum Emma went to the movies." "OK, I don't like this green," he said, wrinkling his nose. "Can't I wear my Cannons' shirt?" That's my boy, Ron thought to himself, beaming. "Of course you can! Where is it?" Matthew charged over to his chest of drawers and started flinging shirts left and right. "Matty, your mum will kill us if we mess up your room like this. Easy!" Matthew giggled, completely ignoring him. Well, he's only four years old. Ron sat down on the edge of Matthew's bed, neatly made for the first time in a week and watched his son, remembering the day he was born. He'd been scared, although nowhere near as terrified as he'd been a couple weeks ago during Charlotte's birth. When he'd held him for the first time, Ron had been convinced he would crush the boy with his large, clumsy hands. He'd been so tiny, but even then Ron had been amazed at how perfect he was. Those first few days at home with the baby had been awesome. He'd been rendered speechless the first time Matthew had spat up on him. "How much milk are you feeding him, ‘Mione?!" he'd managed to choke out, even as Hermione had laughed until she'd cried. The first time he'd seen Hermione breastfeed and the look of absolute adoration she'd held on her face for their son had moved him to tears. To this day, some of his favorite memories involved the morning he'd spent snuggling with his wife, helping her cradle Matty against her while his little cheeks worked furiously at her breast. A cloud shifted over his face, even as Matty danced around the room, triumphant in finding his favorite shirt. This time around, Ron had not been blind to Herminone's shifting moods and occasional tears. She'd done her best to hide them from him, but she couldn't help the fact that he'd grown as accustomed to everything about her as he was himself – loving someone since the age of eleven tended to make the little things fairly observable. When he'd entered their bedroom earlier, he'd heard the tears from the bathroom closely followed by castigation. He wished he could do more for her. He would gladly take some of the pain and burden onto himself if it would only provide her a moment of the happiness she'd seemed to have lost since Charlotte's arrival. The thought of Charlotte tipped the corners of his mouth back up. She was such a serious little thing. Yes, she did the things all newborns tend to do – sleep, eat and…well, that, too – but she would also spend time staring up at him when he held her. Her blue eyes still looked to be a bit cloudy and unfocused, but there were times when Ron would swear that she truly saw him. He thought it was too early for that, but decided he would ask Ginny for her opinion when he saw her later in the day. "Daddy? Can I go downstairs now?" Ron blinked and looked down at his son. He wore a screaming orange t-shirt with the Cannons logo on the front, a pair of jeans and some disreputable-looking trainers. Just like a four-year-old boy should look. Ron glanced up, his eyes widening as he took in Matty's room. Hermione's going to kill me. "No, you can't go downstairs right now because you have to clean up this disaster area before your mother comes in here!" Ron said, leaning down to pick up a t-shirt off the floor. "Daddy!" Matthew whined. "No whining, son," Ron said. "I said you could change your shirt, not empty your wardrobe. Let's get to work while your mother's busy." He leaned down to ruffle his son's hair. "If we hurry, she'll never know." They worked stealthily for the next fifteen minutes, Ron occasionally taking a peek down the hallway. As the last clean shirt was placed in the wardrobe, Hermione came around the corner, the baby cradled in her arms, sound asleep. "Matthew? What happened to that green shirt I put out for you?" she said, frowning. "I bought that especially for today." "Mummy," he said quickly, "I wanted to wear my Cannons shirt. Please?" Ron noticed that Matthew was nudging something mossy-green underneath his bed with the toe of his trainer. She pursed her lips. "Honestly, I don't know what it is about the two of you and that team." Her eyes flashed between Ron and Matthew in mock irritation. "All right, Matty, just be sure to comb your hair…it's a disaster." She continued down the hallway. "Daddy," Matthew questioned as they walked into the loo, "who's coming over today?" Ron paused for a moment. "Your Auntie Ginny for one —" "Brilliant!" he said, punching a fist into the air and doing a little jig. "— And one of our friends from school." Ron leaned against the sink as Matthew combed his hair. "His name's Harry Potter." Matthew dropped his comb. "You're friends with Harry Potter?" he squealed, his eyes as big and as bright as a pair of Galleons. Ron picked Matthew's comb up out of the sink and looked at his son in the mirror. "Yes, son, your mum and I were best friends with Harry when we were at Hogwarts." He ran the comb through Matthew's silken strands, marveling in their softness. "We lost touch after we left school." "Why?" Ron grimaced. "He and I had a fight." Matthew blinked up at him. "Well, why didn't you talk about it and make up?" he said, matter-of-factly. "That's what you and Mummy tell me to do whenever I get into a fight with Derek and Jacob from school." Out of the mouths of babes. "It's a bit more complicated than that." Matthew frowned. "If you had a fight and are mad at each other, why is he coming to visit?" Damn, he takes after his mother, Ron thought to himself. Too bright for his own good. Well, keep it simple. He squatted down until he was at eye level with Matthew. "Well, son, remember when Mummy and I went to hospital a few weeks ago?" Matthew nodded. "Yes, you brought home Charlotte." "Yes." OK, go easy. "Well, while we were there, we found out that Auntie Ginny and Harry have become friends again, so today Harry's coming over to see if he and I can become friends again." Matthew shrugged. "Well, if I had a friend as cool as Harry Potter, I'd make up with him." He paused for a moment. "Would it make Mummy happy if you made up with Mr. Potter?" Ron blinked. "Yes, son, it would. Very much." "Then make up with him. Mummy needs to be happy. She's been sad a lot lately." Just then, the doorbell rang. "Can I go downstairs now?" Ron nodded slowly, a lump forming in his throat as he straightened up from his crouch. Matthew threw a hug around his waist and bulleted past him on his way to the stairs. He stared into the mirror, his blue eyes shadowed with confusion. It was more complicated than that, wasn't it? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Harry exited the taxi in front of Ron and Hermione's flat in Notting Hill. As he turned to give Ginny a hand out of the car, he realized his palms were damp. Again. A person would think you were visiting the Queen, Harry thought to himself as he wiped his palm against the outsides of his trouser leg. "Oy!" the cabby barked. "Yer ladyfriend's waiting!" Harry shook his head. "Cheers, mate," nodding his thanks and offering Ginny his hand. "Sorry about that, love." "It's okay, Harry," she murmured, smiling up at him as she stepped out of the cab. "And it's all right to be nervous as well." "No, it's ridiculous," he grumbled, opening a huge umbrella to shield them both from the rain. "These are the two best friends I've ever had in the world." "Yes, but they haven't been your best friends in nine years," she said, tucking her arm in the crook of his arm. "Not to mention that you're going to meet their children for the first time today as well. If you weren't nervous I'd be worried!" He could feel her fingers squeeze reassuringly through the thick leather of his bomber jacket. Merlin, was he glad she was here with him. They'd arrived in London the night before and had been lucky to be able to get away from Hogwarts at all. Their disappearing act following the Gryffindor/Ravenclaw match had not gone unnoticed by Snape. He'd made his opinion known to McGonagall that Sunday afternoon when he'd hauled both of them into her office to discuss it. "Headmistress," Snape said with a glare, "as our newest staff members, Mr. Potter and Miss Weasley have a great deal less seniority than the other staff. They should not be allowed to go gallivanting all over the countryside without permission." McGonagall's teacup hit its saucer with a snap. "Severus, both Harry and Ginny had permission to be away from the castle on Saturday," she said gruffly. "They'd also both received permission to be present for Mrs. Weasley's delivery. The fact that both of those things happened on the same day was sheer happenstance." She frowned at Snape. "You're not suggesting that they should have come to me before they left for St. Mungo's are you? Given the emergent nature of Mrs. Weasley's delivery, it would have been a dangerous waste of time for them to come to me before they left." Harry barely contained a smirk from rising on his face as he watched Snape squirm under her scrutiny. With that issue settled, McGonagall made it clear that any future overnight trips away from the castle had to be cleared well in advance. After he and Ginny made their plans for London, they went straight to McGonagall for clearance. It had taken their promise to cover the Christmas holidays to clear the path for the trip. Harry smiled wolfishly. The Christmas holidays alone in the castle with Ginny. It was almost too much to ask for. "What are you grinning about?" Ginny asked as they started up the steps. She cocked an eyebrow at him. "I'd even go so far as to say you were leering." "I was just thinking about spending the holidays in the castle with you," Harry said softly, turning and wrapping his free arm around her. He leant down to nuzzle the underside of her jaw with kisses. "I wonder how many kids will be staying." "You're incorrigible," she murmured, pressing herself against him. He captured her lips against his in a lingering kiss. When he broke away from her, he noticed that her eyes were dark brown and bottomless. "And insatiable." "You're one to talk," he said with a smile. They had until 10 o'clock that evening to get back to the castle and, by Harry's estimation, they'd made the most of their trip. Ginny had mentioned that she'd never stayed in Muggle London, so Harry had felt it was his duty to oblige her every wish. They'd stayed in a hotel near Kensington Gardens within walking distance of the high street. He'd managed to secure tickets for a show in the West End and he'd delighted in seeing her face alive with wonder and awe at the performances. They'd gone to a nearby Indian restaurant afterwards. Ginny had never had curry before. Harry was certain he would remember the look she'd had on her face when the chilies had kicked in for the rest of his life. They'd returned to their hotel room and made love throughout the night. Now, as they stood embracing in the chill of a drizzly November afternoon in London, Harry wished he hadn't wasted all of those years away. The time had come to rectify the situation. "I'll be fine," he said, pressing a kiss onto the tip of her nose. "I'm glad you're here with me, Gin." She stood on tiptoe and kissed his chin. "I am too. Now, ring the bell." Once he rang the doorbell, he heard the sound of little feet clamoring towards them. "Matty, settle down," he heard muffled through the opaque glass panel. The door swung open and Ron stood at the threshold, his large hand holding that of little boy with curling auburn hair and his father's blue eyes. "It's Harry Potter!" the boy squealed. Ron rolled his eyes. "Matthew, what did I tell you?" "‘To be polite,'" Matthew said, never taking his eyes off Harry. "But Dad, it's Harry Potter!" "I'm very pleased to meet you, Matthew," Harry said, smiling as he crouched down closer to Matthew's eye level. He was a handsome boy who looked like the perfect fusion of his two parents, although Harry had noticed Matthew had Ron's long nose, complete with freckles. He held out his hand. "Your mother has told me all about you." Matthew grabbed Harry's hand and shook it for all he was worth. "I'm sorry," Ron said, the tips of his ears red. "He's a little excited." "Come on in!" Matthew said, releasing Harry's hand to start down the hallway. "Matty, don't I get a hello?" Ginny's voice queried softly. Matthew stopped, turned and launched himself against her. As her arms came around him to embrace her nephew, Harry's heart lurched. He slowly rose to his feet to gaze at the joyful, maternal expression on Ginny's face. He wanted to be the one to give her children to love and care for, to share with her. Harry noticed a flicker of movement and looked over to see Ron staring at him, his eyes intense. They stood still for a heartbeat, then Harry extended his hand to Ron. Ron's strong hand clasped his and he felt himself pulled in to an embrace with his best friend. "You do love her, don't you?" Ron whispered. "With all that I am, Ron," Harry said in return. As they broke apart, Harry noticed Ginny's eyes shimmering with happy tears. Ron smiled, the first carefree smile Harry had seen on his face in many, many years. As Ron tucked his sister under his arm for a hug, Harry gently brushed at her tears with the pad of his thumb. "It's good to have you both here," Ron said warmly. "Come on into the lounge and meet your goddaughter." As they walked down the hallway, Matthew chattered happily about the random delights of childhood: catching frog spawn with his cousins at the Burrow, learning how to sing his ABCs (a talent which he promptly displayed) and the recent destruction of his room. Harry laughed at the latter. "He's your son all right, Ron!" Ron rolled his eyes and ushered them through the door. "Hermione, look who's here!" Harry froze in the doorway as the slight sound of suckling reached his ears, a blush rising to his cheeks. Hermione sat in an overstuffed armchair, the front of her shirt partially unbuttoned to reveal a portion of her bosom. Oblivious to her guests, Charlotte was busily nursing, her tiny fists pressing against the fullness of Hermione's breast. "Harry! Ginny!" Hermione said, her eyes warm and serene. "It's so wonderful to have you here. Please sit down!" She pulled a blanket from her lap to shield Charlotte and gave Harry a smirk. "Is that better?" "Uh…sh-should," Harry stammered, "should we…wait for you to finish? Because I really can wait outside, if it bothers you." "Of course not, Harry!" she said, beaming up at him. Ron chuckled. "Knew that'd get you, Harry!" "Ron," Hermione frowned as she adjusted the blanket, "it's not nice to tease him like that." She turned back to look at them, and Harry was struck by the look of serenity on her face. "Please, both of you sit down. She'll be finished in a minute." They sat down on the sofa across from Hermione. Harry's eyes flickered around the room, lighting on anything other than Hermione and the baby. It was a cozy room, filled with comfortable, overstuffed furnishings, the mantle covered with wizarding photographs. As he looked at Ginny, whose eyes were fixed on Hermione, he felt another tug and began to wonder what it would be like to sit in a room like this with Ginny by his side, their child suckling on her breast. Involuntarily, Harry's hand reached out to cup the back of Ginny's neck, his thumb running along the edge of her hairline. Ginny turned to gaze at him with eyes filled with longing. I think your heart is winning out over your head, my love. "Okay, time to switch," Hermione cooed at the baby. Harry's eyes shifted as Ron leaned down to take the baby from Hermione. God, she's so tiny, he thought to himself as he watched Ron's huge hands cradle his daughter with ease. Ron lifted her to lie against his chest, one of his large hands moving in slow circles on her back. He could hear her tiny gurgles, whimpers (and what sounded suspiciously like a burp), and drawn by some unseen force, he rose to his feet and walked over to stand next to Ron. Ron shifted the baby and cradled her along the inside length of his forearm. He stood beside Harry and held the little bundle so that Charlotte's face was turned towards her godfather-to-be. Her hair fell, feather-like, across her head and her eyes stared up at him. "She's beautiful," Harry whispered. "She is, isn't she?" Ron said, his voice soft and melodic. "You're lucky – she's usually not happy during the switch." "The switch?" Ginny rose to her feet to stand next to Harry. "Nursing babies can draw milk from both breasts at each feeding if they wish, although most of the time, they are fairly happy with one." He blushed. "Oh." Ron chuckled as he handed the baby back to Hermione. The blanket shifted to one side, giving Harry more of an eyeful that he'd wanted. Charlotte's mouth latched onto Hermione's breast with ferocity. "Bloody hell, Hermione," he gasped, "does that hurt?" Hermione laughed, causing the baby to startle slightly before she tucked back in for her luncheon. "It hurts a bit at first, but as time goes by the pain disappears." She arched a brow at him. "Until their teeth show up." "Teeth?" "Teeth start to arrive around six to seven months of age, Harry," Ginny said, taking him by the hand and leading him back to the sofa. "Mothers can nurse their children for years, if they wish, however, a lot stop as soon as the teeth come in." Harry's eyes flickered down towards Ginny chest and he blushed furiously. Casting a nervous glance towards Ron, who was distracted with Matthew's chatter, Harry turned to find Ginny's eyes twinkling at him. "But...you…" he mouthed. "Earlier…" Ginny goggled, pressing her fingers to her mouth to keep from laughing out loud. "We'll talk about that later," she whispered, giving him a wink. God, I must be glowing in the dark by now. "How…how often does Charlotte need to eat?" Harry asked, shaking his head to clear his brain from thoughts of Ginny's breasts before daring to look at either Ron or Hermione. "About every three hours, unless she's having a growth spurt," Hermione said with a knowing smirk. "Ron? Why don't you show Harry around while I finish up here? Then we can settle in for our own lunch." Twenty minutes later, Harry found himself seated at the Weasley family kitchen table, where Matty was holding court. Harry was charmed by the little boy's obvious devotion towards his parents and his new baby sister. It was clear that Ron and Hermione were warm, doting parents and that their relationship had grown tenfold during his absence. He found himself wishing he could turn back the clock in order to share the days he'd missed: their engagement and marriage, Ron's promotion through the Auror Department, Hermione's rise within the Ministry, little Matthew's birth. As he felt the weight of guilt pressing down onto his shoulders, he felt Ginny's hand squeeze his thigh under the table. He turned to look at her, to draw strength from her being beside him, despite everything that had happened. They deserved to know. They deserved to know everything. The decision made, he clasped Ginny's hand and gave it a squeeze. "Lunch was wonderful, ‘Mione," he said, wiping his mouth with his napkin and laying it next to his plate. He lowered his voice. "I was wondering if we might have some time to talk for a while?" Ron nodded. "We've made plans for Matty to spend the rest of the afternoon with the Montgomerys next door." He looked at his son. "Okay, Matty…time to get your things for Derek's." "Cool!" Matthew said, leaping from his chair and heading for the stairs. He stopped abruptly and turned to face his parents. "Thanks for lunch, Mummy. May I be excused?" "Yes, you may," Hermione said with a smile, "and tell Derek's mum I said hello." "Bye Mr. Potter! Bye Auntie Ginny!" Matthew yelled as he shot through the kitchen door. "I swear, if I hadn't given birth to him myself, I'd think he was raised by wolves," Hermione grumbled. Shaking his head, Ron chuckled and rose from the table as Matthew clambered up the stairs. "I'll be right back." Carrying cups of tea and a platter of biscuits, Harry, Hermione and Ginny headed into the lounge as Ron and Matthew left the flat. Charlotte had continued to sleep throughout their lunch and lay in a little cradle near the fireplace. As though sensing her mother's return, she started to wake in bits and pieces. Harry stood near the basket, marveling at the tiny human inside. "Harry? Would you like to hold her?" Hermione said, gently laying a hand on his arm. "You're going to be her godfather, so you should at least hold her once before the christening." Harry swallowed reflexively. "I've never held a baby before, ‘Mione." "It's not too hard," she said, kneeling down to gently scoop the baby up into her arms. "What if I drop her?" he stammered. Harry's eyes sought Ginny's as a moment of panic shuddered through him and she smiled reassuringly, joining him next to Hermione. "You'll do fine, Harry," Ginny said softly, smiling up into his eyes as Hermione placed the baby into his arms. "Cradle her head in the crook of your arm…that's it…look at you! You're a natural!" Harry dared not breathe. Although awake, Charlotte barely moved as Harry snuggled her closer, high up on his chest. She was barely larger than a rugby ball, nestled against him. She smelled of talc and milk and he didn't think he'd ever seen anything more beautiful in his life. She cooed, blinking her large blue eyes at him as one of her tiny fists came up to thump him on the chin. "Nice right cross, eh?" Ron said, startling the group as he walked into the room. "Takes after her old man." "Ron," Hermione said warningly. "I'm kidding, ‘Mione," Ron said. He turned to Harry. "I had to promise her I wasn't going to pummel you again." "Ron!" "I think you should quit while you're ahead, brother dear," Ginny said, walking over to Harry and taking Charlotte from him. He noticed the smoothness of her movements and how naturally she seemed to handle the newborn. He was moved, once again, by images of her caring for their own child someday. "Point taken, sister," Ron said, pouring himself a cup of tea and settling in next to Hermione on the sofa. As the baby began to fuss, Ginny walked the baby over to Hermione, who was preparing for another feeding. Harry's eyes shifted towards the window – he'd seen enough of Hermione's breasts for one day. After a moment, Ginny's hand slipped into his and they walked over to the sofa opposite Ron and Hermione's and sat. "So…" Harry started nervously, "where to begin…." "Well," Ron said, setting his teacup down and wrapping his arm around Hermione's shoulders. "First of all, thank you for your letter, Harry. It's an incredible story. I'm sure it was a hard story to carry around on your own for so long." Harry nodded. "I owe all of you an explanation for my leaving, and that letter only holds the key to part of it, Ron. But I should ask you if you have any questions about it, first and foremost." "One question," Ron said, pursing his lips. "Why the hell didn't you come to me about any of this?" At Charlotte's started cry, Ron lowered his voice. "I mean, what happened at the Malfoys…I've never seen anything that screamed ‘self-defense' more than that account, Harry! We could have helped you!" "Ron, there's more to it," Harry said, pleadingly. At that, he went into the whole story: the revelation of his relationship with Dumbledore, the discovery of the book, the secret training in the Room of Requirement and the nature of magical bonds. Hours passed, and by the time Harry finished the full accounting, night had fallen. He ran his fingers through his hair, sending the strands in wild directions, and raised his head to find Ron and Hermione staring at him as though transfixed. The baby had been placed in her cradle hours ago. Now Hermione sat with tears streaming down her cheeks while Ron sat, ashen, looking into Harry's eyes. "If only you'd told me," Ron said, his voice shaking. "I would have walked through fire for you, Harry." "I know you would have, Ron," Harry said, his voice sounding scratchy, "and if anything had happened to you, I never would have forgiven myself. As it was, I needed to worry about keeping Ginny safe." "Why? What happened to place her in any more danger than the rest of us?" Harry flushed red, his eyes flickering over to Ginny. Although embarrassed, she nodded her assent. "The night before the final battle of Hogsmeade," Harry started, his stomach lurching uncomfortably. "That night, Ginny and I…." Hermione mouthed a silent "oh." Ron sat bolt upright on the sofa, his face now a dull red in color. "Ron," Ginny said softly, "it was my fault. I know you don't want to know the details—" "No, I don't—" he barked. "—but, you have to know that I sought Harry out. I was the one who pushed him, despite the fact that I knew something was wrong with him that night." "Ginny," Harry said, a furrow forming between his brow, "you didn't act alone." "That's right," Ron said, his eyes flashing. "Dammit, Ron," Ginny said sharply, "when are you going to stop treating me like a child? I swear, to hear you talk I'm not any older than Matthew!" "Please, everyone," Hermione said, wiping her eyes, "that's enough! Ron, I told you earlier, you sister is a grown woman and fully capable of making decisions in her life—" "—Wrong-headed decisions," Ron snarled. "And I've had to live all these years with the consequences of those decisions, haven't I, Ron?" Ginny's eyes flashed as she rose from the couch and began to pace. She turned, her eyes now shimmering with tears and laid her hand on Harry's shoulder. "My heart was torn in two when Harry came to me that horrible night at the Burrow. I chose to stay with you and the rest of our family, Ron, and I chose not to go with Harry, the man whom I'd loved since before I can remember!" She let out a frustrated, angry sigh. "I couldn't see past my own grief to see how desperately he needed me to stand by him." "Ginny," Harry said, shocked into standing. He gathered her in his arms, feeling her head lean against his shoulder, her body wracked with tears. "Please, don't do this, darling! It was my fault, all my fault! I should have seen that you needed to be with your family! All I could think about was what I needed, what I wanted. I've damned myself countless times for failing you." He paused, his own voice breaking as tears prickled his eyes. He pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead and breathed in her lily-scented perfume once more. "I shouldn't have asked you to make that kind of decision within a split second! It wasn't fair to you or to your family." "Everyone, please!" Hermione cried. "It was a time in our lives when everything was in chaos and nothing made any sense. Harry, we had no idea you were carrying such a heavy burden all on your own. My god, inadvertently killing two people with your own hands, then witnessing Charlie and so many others die, facing Voldemort and seeing Dumbledore fall." She turned blazing eyes onto her husband. "Ron, now is not the time to assign blame. Now is the time for us to come together as a family! It's time for us to heal." For several moments, the only sounds in the room were the occasional sniffles coming from Ginny and Hermione and the crackle of the wood on the hearth. Harry's entire body felt bruised, as though he'd been beaten all over again, and he wondered if there was anything else to be done. He held Ginny tightly against his chest, seeking comfort in her closeness, the smell of her hair, the feel of her breasts against his chest. Regardless of what the future held, he vowed to himself that he'd never let go of her again, and if it meant having to beat every single one of her brothers into a bloody pulp he would do it. He was tired of running. It was time to stand and fight. He was startled to feel Ron's heavy hand on his shoulder. Taking a deep breath, he prepared to block the swing. He turned and saw Ron's blue eyes staring into his. "Will you let me help you now?" Ron said hoarsely. All of the air left Harry in a quick whoosh. "Help me? Help me how?" "Harry, if you're willing to Pensieve your memories of that night, I think I might know someone who can help us with the legal aspect of things." Ron paused, giving Harry's shoulder a squeeze. "You know the papers were full of the incident regarding your wandless magic up at the school and chances are people will come digging. Let me help you now so that, if it does come up, we'll be ready." Harry's throat closed. The thought of having his actions come to light after all this time made him cold to his soul. "Ron, do you really think this could happen?" Ginny said, fear shining in her eyes for the first time. "Yes," he answered. "I've seen Sirius at the office until late into the evening, working on something he's kept from all of us. If I had to guess, he's trying to keep the wandless magic out of the papers." "Dammit," Harry muttered. "I knew it was going to be a problem." Ginny gave him a squeeze. "You didn't have a choice, love." Harry let the endearment wash over him before answering. "I know, but I should do whatever I need to in order to minimize the damage." He looked at Ron. "Ginny and I have to get back up to the castle tonight, but if you and I could get together sometime next weekend?" "That's perfect, Harry," Ron said. "We can meet at the twins' shop in Hogsmeade." "I'll send Sirius an owl when we get back to school," Harry nodded. "I want him to be there as well." Ron nodded. "I'm glad you're back with us, git," he said, smiling at Harry. Harry let out a dry chuckle and tucked Ginny closer to his side. "I am too, Ron. I mean that." "We're your family. Don't ever hesitate to ask for help from us again, you hear me?" Ron added, poking him in the chest. "I promise I'll ask for help," Harry said with a smile. Hermione rose to clasp both of them around the waist, and they shared a four-way hug that lasted several minutes. As they broke apart, Ron thumped Harry on the back. "Before you head back to the school, what do you say you and I head to the pub on the corner?" Harry turned to Ginny. "We've still got a bit of time, right?" "Yes," Ginny said, pressing a kiss on his cheek, "go spend some manly-man time with my brother. Just be back here by half past nine. We'll need time to walk from Hogsmeade back to the school." "Yes, Miss Weasley," Harry said with a smile. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Ginny smiled tiredly as Harry and Ron walked out of the lounge. It had been an emotional day, but she found that her heart was lighter than it had been in years. The détente that had been formed between Harry and Ron at St. Mungo's had been solidified into a full reconciliation. Truth be told, she'd had her doubts when they first arrived in London the day before, but she wasn't about to let it spoil her weekend with the man she loved. Yes, she thought to herself as she heard the front door shut, it's time I admit it: I love him still. She'd come to that conclusion earlier when she'd watched Harry hold little Charlotte. She'd felt a pull at her heart so strong it nearly staggered her with its intensity. As she thought back on the past nine years, she'd realized what she'd been missing, what her time with Christopher had been missing: she would never have a bond with anyone else like the one she shared with Harry. The night in the Astronomy Tower had sealed that fate as clearly as if they had spoken vows of marriage. This is where I'm meant to be. This is my partner, my soul mate, the one who holds my heart, and I his. The words she'd thought the night two weeks ago when she and Harry had made love came back to her, leaving her breathless. "Ginny?" Hermione's voice broke through her thoughts. Ginny pressed her hands to her cheeks and flicked her gaze in her sister-in-law's direction. "Where did you go just now?" Hermione said with a smile. Oh, she's smug. "I was just thinking," Ginny said, willing her face to return to its normal color. "Oh, you know full well that answer will not do, Ginny!" Hermione said with a snort, collapsing onto the couch. She patted the seat next to her. "Spill." Twenty minutes later, Ginny had to laugh herself: Hermione sat staring, her eyes as wide as saucers and her hand covering her slack-jawed mouth. "Well," Hermione said, a tinge of pink riding her cheeks, "he's got stamina, doesn't he?" "Her-MI-O-neee!" Ginny said, turning red once more. "I didn't tell you any of that so that you could tease me!" "Oh Gin, it's been so long since we've been able to talk," Hermione playfully pleaded. "Let me have a little fun, please?" "The things I do for you," Ginny grumbled, rolling her eyes only to lean close to give her a hug. "Anyhow, that's enough about me. How are you doing?" Ginny noticed some of the sparkle go out of Hermione's eyes, confirming what she'd suspected. "You've been depressed, haven't you?" Tears shone brightly. "How did you know?" "Hermione, I've been expecting it," Ginny said with more heat than she'd intended. She clasped her sister-in-law's hand. "You put up a good front, but I know what to look for, remember? You went through an extremely difficult birth with Charlotte, so it stands to reason that you would have been down." Her heart twisted as a large tear slid silently down Hermione's cheek. "You said it yourself – it's been a long time since we've been able to talk. We've got an hour or so now. Tell me." Ginny sat patiently as Hermione shared how she'd been feeling the last two weeks. Adjusting to having a newborn and a pre-schooler had been harder than she'd thought it would have been, but Ginny was glad to know that her mum and Emma Granger had made it a point to come by on a regular basis to help. As Hermione finished, Ginny noticed that she had kept her hands cradled against her abdomen and knew she had to ask the question. "How are you feeling about the hysterectomy?" Hermione sighed, another tear escaping from her eyes. "I have my good days and my bad days, Gin. The other day, my mum was here, and I asked her if she'd ever regretted not having more children. She told me ‘I would have loved to have had more children, but it wasn't meant to be. I was always so thankful for having you as my daughter that I didn't worry about the children I couldn't have.' And I know that she's right, I know she is. She tried to get me to see that I should be thankful for what I have, and not to worry about what I've lost." She turned shining, pleading eyes to Ginny. "But I can't help it! Even though my pregnancies were hard, they were a very special time in my life. I'll never get to experience that again." "'Mione, darling, it's okay," Ginny crooned, rubbing Hermione's forearm, her own eyes starting to tear. Her heart ached to see her friend hurting as she was, but she knew it was important for her to get this out. "I'll never again experience the excitement of the first flutters or the first forceful kick," Hermione said, her voice finally breaking as tears streamed down her cheeks."Or the feeling of hiccups. I'll never be able to watch my belly grow with the excitement of knowing a new life is in there. A new life we created—" "—But Hermione, if you hadn't had the hysterectomy, you would have left Ron alone to raise Matty and Charlotte. How could that ever be all right?" Hermione looked stricken and, for a moment, Ginny felt certain she'd pushed things too far. Then Hermione's face fell and she was wracked with sobs. Horrified, Ginny took her sister-in-law in her arms and rocked her gently, stroking her hair and humming a soothing tune into her ear. The embers from their fire sparked and crackled for several moments, the sound broken occasionally by the sound of a sniffle or a quiet "there, there." Out of the corner of her eye, Ginny noticed that Charlotte was coming awake once again and knew she would need tending. "Hermione, I should not have said that," Ginny whispered, her own eyes stinging with tears. "It wasn't my place to do so." "No, Gin," Hermione said, pulling slightly away from Ginny, taking a handkerchief from the sleeve of her blouse and blowing her nose. "You're absolutely right." "But—" "Don't apologize, Ginny," Hermione said, touching her on the arm. "What you're feeling is completely natural, and expected," Ginny went on, peering into her eyes. "Have you thought of seeing someone?" "A professional? Oh no," Hermione said, rising from the couch to pick up Charlotte. "I'll be all right." "There's no shame in it," Ginny said seriously. "I know," she said, walking over to the window seat next to the picture window and pulling a nappy and a package of baby wipes from a large wicker basket. Ginny rose from the couch and walked over to join her. "My mum suggested the same thing." As Hermione tended to Charlotte's needs, Ginny felt as though she was the lowest worm on the planet, until she felt her sister-in-law's eyes on her face. When Ginny raised her eyes, she found Hermione's searching gaze pinning her to her seat. "What is it, Hermione?" "D…do you really think I should see someone?" she asked hesitantly. "Hermione," Ginny said, blowing out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "I honestly think it might help you. At the very least, it would give you someone you could talk to about all of the changes that have happened in your life in the last two weeks." She nodded sadly. "Have you talked with Ron about how you're feeling?" Hermione's eyes widened. "I…I…" "Hermione, he wants to support you, to help you," Ginny pressed. "Let him." Hermione let out a shuddering sigh. "You're right. You're absolutely right. I think I just needed a kick in the pants from you, Gin." She picked up Charlotte. "I'm going to go wash up and get some more tea for us. Harry and Ron should be gone for another hour at least. Can you keep an eye on Charlotte?" "Of course!" Ginny said, stretching out to take the baby from her sister-in-law. "I didn't get to spend enough time holding her earlier today, so hand her over." She was relieved to see a smile cross Hermione's face as she placed Charlotte in her arms. "Everything's going to be OK, ‘Mione. It will just take some time." Hermione nodded, pressing a kiss first on Ginny's cheek and then her daughter's. "Thanks for being here." "Anytime," Ginny said. As Hermione left the room, she heard the front door open and little Matthew tearing towards the kitchen. Three seconds later, he came tearing back into the living room, waved at his auntie. "The evening Daily Prophet's here," Matthew said, winded, placing the newspaper on the window seat. "Mummy said you might like to read it while she's in the kitchen." "Thanks, Matty!" Ginny smiled as the boy ran back towards the kitchen, chuckling as she turned her gaze onto Charlotte's attentive face. As she walked around the room, she hummed a tuneless lullaby, watching the baby's eyes lose their focus as sleep began to claim her once again. Out of the corner of her eye, Ginny saw the flickering movements of a wizarding photograph on the cover of the evening's Daily Prophet. Cradling Charlotte in one arm, she sat back down on the window seat and reached for the paper. She'd reached the third page when her heartbeat skittered as she read the half-page advertisement running the length of the bottom of the page: "Ollivanders of Hogsmeade Opening Soon!" Author's Note #2: Once again, I must thank Susan AKA OHGinnyfan for all of her help with this chapter. As I stated at the end of Ch 15, I haven't been a mom so her in-depth research (a mama of four boys) in the subject was -- and is, for her as well -- a blessing. I also want to thank her husband and kids for being patient while this chick on the coast kept her busy with questions and revisions. Secondly, to my beta Ahmie, who has had to slog through more pages from me over the past month than I'm sure she ever anticipated when she agreed to take on this story. I promise -- no more 32-page chapters. At least for a while...*ducking the incoming frozen seafood* Seriously, I think that's it for a while. These chapters have been exhausting. Finally, I want to thank all of you who have sent me private emails and messages about Chapter 15. I can't begin to know how difficult losing a child or suffering through a difficult birth must be. I've kept your letters close to me as I wrote Hermione's POV in Chapter 16 and hope I have presented the emotions following such a trauma in a faithful and honorable way. And I realize that Hermione's not out of the woods yet -- while I've never had children, I'm no stranger to clinical depression, and know that it takes time, patience, the occasional prescription and a lot of hard work to move through it. As someone who has dealt with depression throughout my life, I'm certain some of my own personal experience may be woven in between as well. In any event, please know that I'll keep you and your families in my thoughts.
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