#at least with ron i know you just feed him and he perks right up hjp is the one puzzle i cannot solve

[whinlatter]

Do you think Hermione would be jealous of Ginny after the war for becoming Harry's "main girl"? (i mean Ginny was already that starting from HBP..but yk what I mean)

Because I'm sort of divided. On one head, Hermione can absolutely be jealous and resentful when she wants to be, so there's possibility. But on the other hand, she was the biggest Hinny shipper in books and she didn't seem to have a problem of them being close in HBP. She also has her own life after the war, not to mention she'd focus on her own relationship with Ron.. so idk🤔

Noooo, I really don't think Hermione would be jealous of Ginny over that. That girl was rooting for those crazy kids throughout! I think Hermione and Ginny's relationship would have other tensions (to be explored in Beasts if you're reading... did someone say… shameless promo?). Honestly, though, I think a big part of her would be a bit relieved Harry was back with Gin so he wouldn't feel left out now her and Ron have finally properly got together. Like phew ok Ginny you're up! He's all yours! I could never handle his strops anyway! I'll be upstairs with your brother if you need me. Have fun lads be safe now

[harrypotter-imaginess]

A/N: This was a request by @fiiiinewine . Mentions of charector death for Hogwarts Mystery and canon. It’s a little angsty, but overall it’s pretty good. Takes place maybe 1-3 years after the seventh book. Hope you like it!

- Molly wraps you up in a warm hug the second she opens the door.

- “Mum I’m here too.” Charlie adds, and she just shushes him.

- She pats him on the shoulder before leading you both inside. The house is completely spotless. Which you don’t doubt is because Molly’s been tirelessly cleaning.

- “Anything to eat dear? Must have been a long journey.”

- And before you can even answer she grabs both of your arms and gives a tender squeeze.

- “Thin as bones,” she mutters. “What are they feeding you in Romania? Broth?”

- “I mean, yeah, there’s always soup.”

- And she clicks her tongue.

- “Soup isn’t proper food dear, it isn’t even proper food before a meal.”

- You laugh and assure her that you’re eating enough and everything is fine.

- “What about me Mum, I eat the same things as (Y/N) does.” Charlie mocks hurt at the lack of attention.

- Molly just rolls her eyes.

- “You’ll be fine, you and Bill once “went camping” with pack of biscuits for a week and came back even plumper then you were when you left.”

- Charlie just rolls his eyes and takes your bags up the stairs. And you go with Molly to the kitchen.

- “Molly do you need help with anything?” Long have the days gone where you call her Mrs. Weasley and she tells you “Call me Molly!”

- “Oh please, call me Mom, you and Charlie have been together long enough.” She says with a wave of her hand and you almost laugh. Somethings don’t change.

- You stand beside her in the small kitchen measuring ingredients for for cookies.

- “So when are you and Charlie thinking of giving me some grandchildren?” She’ll ask, and you stutter to a stop, nearly dropping the measuring cup as you do.

- “I-I think you should ask Bill and Fleur that first shouldn’t you?”

- “Just because he’s the oldest?” She asks, a corner of her mouth quirking up.

- “Well, also because they’re married.” And she scoffs.

- “It’s the 21st century (Y/N), marriage doesn’t mean what it used to.” She shrugs, taking the measuring cup full of flour you’ve extended towards her.

- You never thought that Molly Weasley would have such progressive views. She’s been a fairly traditional homemaker and housewife for much of her adult life.

- “Besides Bill has shifted back to Egypt to work on his curses, not a stable environment for a child right now.” You smile, also too far away for Molly to go visit everyday.

- “Well you’ve always got Percy.” You day with a chuckle, earning a scoff from her.

- “With the formality between those two it’ll be years before I even see them hold hands, let alone a baby.”

- And you both laugh at that.

- Before she can talk more about marriage or babies or any other topic you are completely unprepared for, Charlie comes bumbling through the door.

- “Making cookies?” He asks with a raised eyebrow, pulling out a spoon from the drawer before dipping it into the mixing bowl.

- “Without me? Your beloved son who loves baking more than anything in the world?” He smirks as his mother hits him with a wooden spoon lightly, taking a bite of raw sugar cookie dough.

- “What can I do, you love helping so much you always polish it off before I can even bake it.” Her words are stern, but you can see the cheerful twinkle in her eyes.

- She hits him again with the spoon and he laughs.

- “Well I’ll have to take over for (Y/N), Dad’s outside ecstatic that they’re here.”

- You nod, a grin spreading across your face. You’ve been expecting to talk to him about muggles ever since you arrived.

- You pull of your apron, and hand it to Charlie, exchanging a warm look as you do.

- You vaguely hear: “It’s like they’re already part of the family” and you feel a smile spread across your face.

- Arthur is in the living room, scanning a newspaper. And he smiles wide when he see’s you.

- He stands and envelops you in a warm hug, and you note how he smells like old books and honeysuckle.

- “So good to see you, how’ve you been?”

- And you tell him that you’re doing well. That life in Romania is good, that Charlie seems happy. And he smiles.

- “So when are you two planning on getting married.” And you practically choke on your tea.

- “You know your wife just asked me a similar question in the kitchen.” You laugh, but feel a hear creeping up your neck.

- “Oh she’s my wife and no one to you?” He jokes. “That’s your future mother-in- law you know.”

- You can’t help but laugh.

- Charlie’s in the kitchen, rolling the cookie dough out, sprinkling some more flour on top.

- “Are we the first ones here?” He asks, and Molly nods.

- “Ginny, Harry and George will be here tonight, Ron and Percy will be here tomorrow.” She waves her wand, and the rolling pin begins to move on his own.

- “Spent too long in Romania, you’ve forgotten you can use magic.” She chuckles, and Charlie laughs as well as he blushes.

- “(Y/N) always does it by hand so I didn’t realize.” He murmurs, and Molly smiles.

- Charlie’s freckled face is practically glowing red, his dark red hair cut clean, his beard well trimmed. He looks good.

- “You know, (Y/N) would make someone a fine (Daughter/Son) in law.” And Charlie has to stifle the urge to roll his eyes.

- “They don’t want to get married yet Mum.” He mumbles, grabbing a cookie cutter to press shapes into the dough.

- Molly Weasley’s mouth purses into a long straight line.

- “They don’t want to get married yet, or you don’t?” It’s a pointed question, but her tone is soft.

- A long moment of silence falls between them.

- “They feel strange getting married without Jacob or their parents being there.” Charlie finally breaks the silence.

- “And I feel strange getting married without Fred being there too.” This part leaves much softer, and Molly’s mouth begins to relax into small smile.

- “I suppose I should just be glad Bill had the common sense to get married before.” And Charlie almost scoffs.

- “Is that what we’re calling it? Because at the time I remember seeing you tangled in Christmas lights, muttering “the things you do for love””

- Molly lightly shoves her son and they both laugh.

- When the others arrive is when the fun really starts.

- Warm hugs are passed all around.

- Ginny practically squeals when she see’s you.

- “You’ve gotten so thin! And your hair is so shiny!” She looks at you with wide eyes, expecting to divulge all your secrets but you just shrug.

- “Air in Romania is very clean.” Is the best you can offer.

- Harry offers a polite hug, and George practically wrestles you into a headlock with his bear hug.

- “I’ve got some Products I need your advice on!” He says with a big grin, and you smile back.

- “We’ll stay up after they’ve all gone to bed” You nod.

- There’s hot cocoa, and games of wizard chess, jokes and laughter.

- And you smile when Charlie grabs your hand and gives a tight squeeze.

- You and Charlie are split up when the sleeping arrangements are being made. He’s taken away by a grumbling George, who’s wrapped his arms around his shoulders

- “(Y/N) would be better but you’ll have to test out some new products I’m working on.”

- You and Ginny share her room, sleeping side by side on the bed.

- “Are you and Charlie ever going to get married?” She asks, and you can’t help but let out a groan.

- “Oh not you too!”

- She props up on an elbow

- “It’s a serious question you know, how long have you been dating anyway?”

- And you have to use your fingers to count the years.

- “Hmm eight? No maybe nine.” And Ginny huffs

- “Don’t you think that’s long enough?”

- You sigh, Ginny’s so much younger then you. She may not understand.

- “Well for a few years we were long distance you know.” You tell her, through the dark room you can make out one of her bright red eyebrows raised.

- You sigh again. Might as well be honest.

- “For a while we actually were thinking about it.” You admit, and even through the dark you can see her perk up. “But then-“ you have to still your breath.

- “But then Jacob passed away,” you finally manage, and the words don’t hurt like they used to. “And then my parents,” And this doesn’t seem to hurt as much either. “And then Fred.” You whisper. This one, this wound is still fresh. And you know it’s fresh for her too.

- She doesn’t say anything back.

- Her hand tangles in your own and gives it a firm squeeze.

- The silence is only broken when she says:

- “So no nieces or nephews either then? You don’t need to be married to have kids you know.”

- They really are family

- You just roll your eyes.

- “Maybe we’ll bring home a dragon or something. Molly can knit it a sweater and everything.”

- The next day starts late and lazy, all gathered around the table having a simple breakfast of toast and fruit, glasses of juice and coffee traded along the table.

- You practically run towards him when Bill comes home.

- “You smell like a tomb.” You tel him and he grins.

- “Better than when we were in the cursed vaults at least.” He grins back.

- Fleur kisses both your cheeks and you giggle.

- “‘Ow ‘as Romania been?” She asks, squeezing your arms. “You ‘ave lost weight, yes?”

- Everyone in this family,

- you suppress a giggle as she moves to Charlie. His perplexed expression as she kisses each of his cheeks as well.

- “You know Bill, I still don’t get how you pulled that one off.”

- “Neither do I.” He admits.

- Percy arrives last with Ron, and gives you an awkward hug. Ron giving you a slightly warmer hug, blushing and asking you about the cursed vaults.

- You all stay up until midnight, reminiscing about your days at school. Sharing mugs of tea and cocoa, smiling and joking.

- You exchange gifts at midnight. You get another sweater from Molly, but you don’t miss the way she snatches the significantly smaller sweater she knitted with “W” on it, out of the bag before you notice.

- You give Arthur a stack of muggle encyclopedias , and a warm coat from Romania

- George gives you a bag full of candy and several “Weasley’s Fire Crackers”

- You give him a bag full of Romanian prank shop goods.

- “Hey Charlie what does this say?”

- “I donno mate, but if you use it you’ll find out yeah?”

- You give Ginny a chic overcoat she can wear for colder days on the quidditch pitch.

- “How come this says it’s from you and Charlie?” She asks, and you shrug.

- “Charlie just put his name on it after you got it didn’t he?”

- “Yeah, pretty much.”

- You give Percy a first edition copy of his favorite book, and almost smile when you see his expression. He almost reminds you of the boy you knew in school.

- Ron gets a quidditch jersey, and you give Harry an enchanted pen.

- “A pen?” He asks, he’s not complaining. It’s a nice pen, he’s gotten quite tired of the quills these days.

- “An enchanted pen, you need a strand of hair from someone. And wherever you write on your body, will show up in the same spot on them.”

- “So you know, if you and Ginny are ever apart, you can always send her a message.”

- You did it more for Ginny then for him really. You remember the thrill you felt when you first saw Charlie’s chicken scratch handwriting on your arm after being apart for months.

- Bill gives you an enchanted mirror from Egypt, so you can see whatever it is you want to look at.

- “Let’s be honest Bill, this is really more for Charlie so he can look at the Dragons in the middle of the night without waking me.”

- “It’s for you too, now you won’t have to get up and go with him”

- Fleur give you French perfume and hand cream.

- “Something you ‘vil actually use.”

- You laugh and smile, and grin as you exchange gifts and try them on. Tease each other and blow up fireworks in the backyard.

- It’s only at three in the morning, when everyone else is snug in bed, that you tip toe out of bed. Careful not to wake Ginny.

- Charlie’s already waiting for you downstairs, his eyes bloodshot as he takes a sip of Father’s fire whisky.

- “How is it, that even though we are in the same house, I feel like I’ve seen you for about thirty minutes in the past two days.” He mumbles, his face in your hair, letting out a deep sigh as he presses a kiss to your forehead.

- You settle beside him, your head on his shoulder.

- “Maybe I’d spend more time with you if you actually got me a Christmas present.” You smile teasingly as you rest your chin on his chest, gazing up to look at him.

- You feel his hand tangle with yours, his hands playing with your fingers.

- “I thought you said no gifts this year?” He grins back teasingly, but his eyes are focused on your hand.

- “Well we kinda broke the bank with everyone else’s.” You chuckle, and take a deep breath, taking in his scent.

- Even after all these years he still smells like honeysuckle and grass. He smells like home.

- You shut your eyes, taking in his scent and his warmth. Nearly humming in pleasure. When you feel something cold and hard touch the tip of your ring finger.

- Your eyes open, as you feel it slide down to the base of you finger, where your finger and palm meet.

- you glance down to see a rather remarkable diamond ring sparkling on your finger.

- Charlie holds you close, one arm around your shoulders, while the other hand rests over yours.

- “So what do you say? I feel like we’ve been married for a while now really, why don’t we make it official.”

- You just smile.

[skullsandfairylights]

Writer’s Month 2020

Day 7: Hurt/Comfort – 2878 words

Harry gave a loud sigh as he pushed the door to his flat open and trudged inside. He collapsed back to lean against the wood for a moment, scrubbing his hands over his face and eyes beneath his glasses in an effort to make himself feel more awake. Parent’s Evening was always a nightmare, no matter how lovely his students were that year. There was always at least one parent who thought that their child wasn’t being challenged enough. And another one who thought that their child was God’s gift and could do no wrong and that obviously any problems were just on Harry. Even the parents who were just happy to hear about their child’s progress were tiring, with their constant questions. Maybe it was just because he hadn’t eaten since his break time that morning – his lunch had been taken up running his lunch time club before he’d been called to deal with a issue between two feuding students and after school, he’d been busy organising his notes when he’d received a call about his godson.

         Teddy had been playing in the school playground at lunch time when he’d fallen from the monkey bars and hit his head. He’d ended up briefly visiting the hospital since he had been unconscious for a short period. The doctors said that it was just a concussion and that they’d keep him in, just to monitor him. Harry only found out when Andromeda (Teddy’s grandmother and guardian) called him. He was annoyed that he hadn’t been told straight away, but Andromeda had said, in a no-nonsense way, that there would have been nothing that Harry could do, and that there had been no point in worrying him. Harry had wanted to immediately head over to the hospital, but that idea had been shut down almost instantly. He wouldn’t be able to change anything, and he had other responsibilities – he could “come and visit Teddy tomorrow”.

         With everything happening, the only thing he’d had to eat was a couple of chocolate biscuits with his tea in the staff room – they were good biscuits though, McGonagall’s special tin was always well stocked.  But now, it was after 9 o’clock and his stomach felt like it was turning inside out. For a moment, he thought about ordering for delivery, but he could just picture his partner’s face when they found out that he’d ordered for food twice in one week.

         Harry let out a quiet groan and made his way to the kitchen, dropping his keys into the little dish on the side table as he went. He flicked on the light and surveyed the room – trying to remember what food he had in. There might have been a dusty tin of soup in the back of the cupboard, but he’s pretty sure that his tin opener did a runner months back and he hasn’t been bothered to buy a new one. He may have had milk in the fridge, to fix himself a bowl of cereal, but he stopped himself when he remembered that he couldn’t actually remember the last time he bought milk.

         His eyes scanned the freezer and he perked up. He was sure that he still had some of Mrs Weasley’s lamb stew left from the last family get-together. His best mate’s mother always made enough food to feed an army – something which likely came from the fact that the Weasley family was a small army in itself. When Molly had found out about Harry’s situation as a boy, she had all but adopted him in the family. Even now, after a decade, Harry still spent his holidays with the family.

         Harry went to pull open the freezer when he suddenly heard the sound of glass smashing violently. He froze and immediately checked around him, thinking he’d just accidentally knocked something but, just as he realised that there was nothing there, there was a door slamming and soft, dull thud from above him. Harry frowned and stared at the ceiling.

         Then he heard the crying.

         It was really quiet and muffled, but it sounded like a female. She gasped and heaved with sobs for a few minutes. Then there was some shuffling and footsteps.

         All thoughts of food, and eventual sleep, were wiped from Harry’s mind. He closed the freezer door and headed for the door, grabbing his keys on the way out. He climbed the stairs slowly, trying to prepare himself for the potential, worst case scenario.

         He reached the door to the flat above his and knocked determinedly.

         Behind the door, he thought he heard a gasp or hitch in breath before he heard some scuffling. A minute passed and then the door opened just a crack.

         There was a young woman, about the same age as Harry, peering out. Her eyes flickered over him and then behind him before she slowly pulled the door open wider. She looked like she was ready for bed. Her hair was loose and bushy around her shoulders and she was dressed in pyjama trousers and fuzzy slippers and a zip-up hoodie zipped all the way up to her chin. She looked at him with wide eyes. “Can I help you?”

         “Uh, yeah, sorry, I live in the flat just below you.” He gestured down, “And I just thought I heard something…weird? So, I just wanted to come and check that everything was alright.”

         She laughed slightly nervously, “Well, think your ears are playing tricks on you. I haven’t heard anything weird.” Her hands absently went to the zipper on her hoodie and held close to her chin. “Thanks for caring, though, that’s really nice of you.” Her eyes flicked behind Harry, down the stairs for a split second. “Look, I’m sorry, but I have to go back in. I wish I could tell you about the noise, but I honestly didn’t hear anything.” She gave a small shrug, “Must have been the wind or something.” Then she gently closed the door, leaving Harry standing alone on the landing.

 Harry headed back to his flat, food and sleep all by wiped from his mind. He snagged a small pack of crackers from the kitchen and retreated to his bedroom. He sat down on the floor with his back up against the side of his bed as he nibbled on the edge of one of the crackers.

         Gradually, he ended up lying down on the floor, parallel to his bed, staring up at the ceiling. Something didn’t feel right in his gut – and it wasn’t just his hunger. There was something more going on, he was sure of it. It was the same kind of feeling he had when he had noticed that one of his students had been coming into school everyday with a dirty uniform. The same feeling when he then saw the student trying to sneak a slice of bread from the canteen at lunch time. He’d raised the concern and later found out that the student’s mother had recently lost her job and was having financial problems – including being unable to afford laundry detergent or lunch for her child.

         Something wasn’t right.

         But what could he do? He was pretty sure that he had never met the woman before that interaction. He didn’t know if she lived there alone or with anyone else. He didn’t know if this was an isolated incident. He didn’t have all the facts. Hell, he didn’t have any of the facts, really. What could he do?

         He wouldn’t leave her alone, that was for sure. Sure, he didn’t know if anything was happening, but he would hate himself more if he did nothing and something did happen.

         Harry ended up falling asleep on the floor that night.

 For the next few days, Harry kept his ear out as much as he could. Unfortunately, Harry still had a job and other commitments so he could only really listen out after school. But he still did it.

         When he sat down to plan out his future lessons, he would usually have something playing in the background – music, a podcast, the telly or the radio – but now he had silence. He would sit, half-focused on the word document on his laptop and half-focused on the sounds of the building.

         Occasionally, the thought would cross is mind that he was actually acting like a creep. Paying so much attention to a situation that didn’t really involve him, trying to figure out what was going on with the girl upstairs.

         He talked to Ron about it one evening. Ron had called to invite Harry out to the pub for a drink and a catch up. Harry had said that he didn’t want to leave his flat if he didn’t have to. To which his best mate then decided to invite himself over.

         They’d sat on the sofa, beers in hand and Harry had explained what he’d heard and why he was so concerned. Ron had been worried too but he had also cautioned Harry against sticking his nose in too far, since Harry did have a slight tendency to always try and play the hero.

         “All I’m saying, mate, is that you like to help people. Which is great, it really is… just make sure that you’re not just making a problem out of nothing, alright?”

         Harry had gone quiet for a few minutes after that and Ron let him, choosing that moment to get up and get them both new bottles of beer. When he came back, Harry hadn’t moved from his spot, so he set the bottle on the table and grabbed the telly remote. He flicked through the channels before settling on a show talking about the latest football results and they sat in silence, just enjoying each other’s company. And if Ron purposefully put the volume on low, well, that was no one else’s business.

 Nothing happened for a week. Harry had been listening out whenever he was at home but nothing had sounded off.

         Then there was a shout.

         Harry had heard a door slam and footsteps thudding down the corridor – he assumed that the flat above had the same layout as his own. There was quiet, just some unintelligible mumbling and then raised voices. The voice was much deeper than the woman’s who he had met before. Harry assumed it was a man – a brother or friend or partner of the woman, maybe. The shouting went on for a few minutes and Harry was torn.

         Should he go up and intervene? He was worried for the woman’s safety, after the glass shattering the previous week. But who’s to say that it wasn’t a coincidence. And shouting didn’t necessarily mean domestic violence or abuse. But if something did happen?

         Suddenly, the shouting stopped and there was another door slamming. Harry froze, before suddenly surging towards his door. He pressed his ear up against the wood and he heard heavy footsteps thudding down the stairs. They passed his door and continued downwards. Harry slipped his keys into his pocket and then carefully, inched the door open. He walked out and subtly peered over the banister.

         A tall, thin man with dark hair was stomping down each step. Harry could just about see his face which was drawn in an angry expression, thick eyebrows slanted down.

         Harry waited until he heard the front door to the building open and close before he scurried up the stairs. He approached the door as he did last time and knocked.

         The woman opened the door more quickly this time, opening it the crack before pulling it the full way. She tried to smile at him. “Yes?”

         Harry suddenly felt like he’d been flung into the deep end of a pool without knowing how to swim. He had moved purely on instinct and hadn’t actually thought of what he was going to say. He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times before saying, “Sorry, I thought I heard something again. Everything okay?” He tried to make himself sound as unthreatening as possible.

         The woman just looked at him with wide eyes. “Your ears really are playing tricks on you.” Her voice shook ever so slightly. She was wearing that zip-up hoodie, zipped up as far as it would go. “I didn’t hear anything.”

         “Oh, well, okay.” Harry glanced towards the stairs. He took a breath, “Okay, well, I just want you to know that I live just downstairs, the flat below you. And if you do happen to hear anything, anything at all, then you can come and talk to me. Or if you want to hang out, you know, socialise as neighbours, you can do that too.” Harry poked his glasses back up his nose from where they’d slipped. “I’m Harry, by the way.”

         “Look, I’m sorry, but I didn’t hear anything, and I need to get back in.” Once again, the woman tried to smile at Harry before she shut the door on him.

         Harry stood there for a moment before he sighed and headed back to his flat.

 When Harry didn’t hear anything for a few days again, he decided to take another approach. He pulled out his music speakers and set it up on top of a bookcase, close to the ceiling. Then he connected his phone and started to play a playlist of songs he’d created. The first song was “Lean on me”, followed by “Stand by you” and “Count on me”, “One Call Away”, “Here for you” among others. He raised the volume and set the playlist to loop whenever he was in the flat.

         Harry wasn’t sure if the sound travelled both ways through the ceiling/floor of the flats, but he didn’t really care. If there was even a chance that she could hear it, he wanted to make sure that she did. He wanted to make sure that she knew he was there for her. They were strangers, sure, but if he could do anything to make things easier for her, he wanted to help.

         Maybe Ron was right and Harry did have a bit of a hero complex? Looks like drinks would be on Harry next time.

         After a few days of playing music to the ceiling, Harry pulled out a post-it note, and left a message on his own door – if things were bad, he didn’t want to make things worse by drawing attention. So, he scribbled a note.

I promise I’m not playing tricks on you.

-Harry

         He stuck it to the door and smiled when one day, as he got from school he found that the post-it note was gone and, once he got into his flat, found that a different post-it note had been pushed through the letter box. It only had one word, written in very neat, small handwriting.

Thanks.

 Harry didn’t expect to immediately see her. He was happy that she had responded to his note and offers for help. He started to return to his normal, daily life. He would listen to music while he planned lessons, he would go out to the pub with Ron and he no longer listened so intently to the noises of the flat above. He figured that she would come to him if she wanted or needed.

 It had been another normal Friday. School had been uneventful – something Harry was pleased about – and he’d actually been able to leave the building by 5 o’clock. He had a date planned for tomorrow with his partner – who he hadn’t actually been able to see for a week due to both of their work schedules – which he was looking forward to. So, he wasn’t expecting to see someone standing outside his door when he reached the landing.

         “Hi.” There outside his door was the woman from the flat above. She was wearing the same zip-up hoodie, one hand curled around the zip under her chin.

         “Hi,” Harry replied. “How are you?”

         The woman took a breath, “I was wondering if your offer to hang out was still open?”

         Harry smiled, and pulled out the key to his door. “Yeah, of course! You’re always welcome to come in.” He unlocked the door and motioned her inside. “Feel free to stay for as long as you want.” Harry followed her in, dropping his keys into the dish and sliding his jacket onto one of the pegs. “Would you like something to drink? I’ve got tea, coffee, juice?”

         The woman gave a small smile, “Tea would be nice.” Harry nodded and made his way to the kitchen and she followed in behind him.

         “It’s always nice to just sit and have a cup of tea with a friend.”

         When they both had cups of tea in hand, they settled in the living room. They made small talk, discussing how the weather had been, what they thought about the awful smell in the stairway and its cause. They talked about their jobs. Neither brought up the noise.

         And that was okay, Harry thought. They didn’t need to bring up the noise right now. He would wait until she was ready to talk about it.

         After all, until she said for sure, the noise could still just be nothing more than the wind.  

[thirtyisdirty]

Secrets We Keep - Chapter 2

“You want her to live where?” Ginny’s voice was eerily quiet. Ron could feel the anger seeping from his sister’s pores.

“First of all,” he managed with as much patience as he could muster. “Let’s address the child by her name.” He knew this was not easy for Ginny either.  “Her name is Maia.  Perhaps we call her that instead of her or the girl or whatever else we’ve been referring to her as.”

“The Mistake?”

Ron’s head whipped up and his eyes met his sisters with an anger she’d so rarely seen from him.  “Enough!” He’d silenced his sister quickly.  In fact, none had ever seen Ron silence his sister before.

“Now I’m not asking you Gin.  I’m telling you.  Maia is coming to live with us.  We will raise her.” Ron grabbed Hermione’s hand and met Harry’s gaze.  “As ours,” he said as if daring his best friend to challenge him.

“What would be to Maia then,” Harry pondered with an attempt to seem apathetic and follow along with Ron.

“Her Godparents.”

Ginny arched a perfect red brow. Ignoring her husband’s question or her brother’s reply she continued, “She’s probably very happy where she is Ronald.”

“Maia,” he replied calmly, “is a very happy girl.” He raked a hand through his hair in frustration, “But she’s showing very strong abilities.  Ones that cannot be denied and ones that will draw attention from the muggle world and the ministry.”

“How so?” Harry’s head perked up.  He tried to use caution when showing interest for his biological daughter in front of his wife, but Ron had him intrigued.

“Harry, it was incredible - Maia is incredible.” Ron tightened his grip on Hermione’s hand. “She changed all the colors of the flowers in the courtyard and she’s not even two.  Her control is amazing.” He paused to take a breath and swallowed hard. 

The girl, Maia, his daughter, was essentially an orphan.  An orphan whose parents were very much alive but lived with enormous amounts of guilt.  Was he ok with only knowing his daughter as her Godfather as Ron suggested? Could he spend every day pretending she was someone who wasn’t even related to by blood? He’d felt so alone at the Dursley’s.  Would Maia be made to feel that way with Ron and Hermione? No – it didn’t seem that way.  For starters, Hermione was her mother and Ron was pushing for this.  Ron was the one in awe of his and Hermione’s daughter.

“There’s another reason – one I only thought of once I’d spoken to Hermione of having Maia come live with us.”

“What’s that?” Harry pushed a hand into his hair.

“If anyone found out who she is – Who she truly is,” Ron’s blue eyes were hard but not unkind as they bore into Harry’s. “She’d be in a lot of danger.”

“I’m not sure that she’d be in any more danger than James or the new baby,” Ginny sighed.

“Harry Potter’s daughter being raised by a muggle? Not only that, Hermione’s mother? Don’t you think that would be a former Death Eater’s dream?”

Harry rubbed his scar out of habit.  Ron was right.  Harry Potter and Hermione Granger’s daughter would have a bigger target on her back than James or the new baby even. 

Had they orphaned their daughter in some vain attempt to return to some semblance of a normal life? A life that would never be the same.

They both lived with enormous amounts of guilt.  Could either of them every raise their daughter properly?

Was he truly ok with knowing Maia only as her Uncle, her Godfather?

Could he spend his days pretending he wasn’t related by blood to the child? His child.

He’d spent his childhood feeling alone and unwanted at the Dursleys.  Would Maia be made to feel that way with Ron and Hermione?

No – it didn’t seem that way.  Ron was the one pushing for this.  Then again, Hermione… she was the wild card in this equation and Maia was her own daughter.

Questions bounced around Harry’s mind as Ron continued his pitch as to why they should be raising Maia.

Ron was in awe of his daughter.

*~*~*

The Potters had collected James from Molly and Arthur’s and returned home. Harry tried to think of ways to approach the topic of Maia with Ginny again but, she beat him to it.

“Of all of the stupid thoughts Ronald has had in his life,” she said maneuvering throw pillows from their bed, “and believe me there have been loads.” Harry snorted he had been friends with Ron since he was eleven. She didn’t need to explain Ron’s bad ideas to him. “This one takes the fricken cake,” she huffed fluffing her pillow between each word as if to emphasize them.

“Would it really be so terrible Gin?” Harry’s voice is quiet as thoughts of his daughter’s soft curls flutter through his mind.

*~*~*

“Harry!” Thea Granger doesn’t attempt to mask her surprise as she pulls the heavy oak door open.  “What brings you here?”

Harry pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose and takes in her disheveled appearance; hair astray, random spit-up stains on her blouse, dark circles beneath her eyes.

He holds up a box of nappies. “Thought you could use some.  I know how quickly they go through them.”

Thea smiles and ushers in the young man who very nearly died to protect non-magical people like herself.  Muggles as Hermione calls them.

“Fancy a cuppa?” She asks closing the door behind him.

Harry nods and follows Thea through the cottage to the kitchen surveying the various baby apparatuses as they go. It looks very much like his own home as muggle baby items are very helpful in day to day life – especially as James is beginning to pull himself up to a standing position.  But Maia…

“I er-wasn’t sure what size.”

“Those are right, she’s still fairly tiny.” Thea sets the kettle and glances at him. “But very healthy,” she adds seeing his concern.

Harry nods and drops into a chair at the kitchen table.  The room is decorated in soft pinks and windows line the back wall allowing sunlight to brighten the room. Before he can speak or the water can boil, he hears a squawking from a nearby monitor.

“Right on time,” Thea says looking at her watch.

In her absence, the water begins to boil.  Harry mutely searches for cups and tea, kept in much the same places he imagined Hermione would keep them, and silently prepares their tea. He helps himself to a third sugar cube and is raising his cup to his lips when Thea and Maia appear in front of him in the kitchen.

He freezes. “We both know why you were on my doorstep Harry.”

He places his cup on the counter and before he can protest, Thea lays his daughter in his arms with a swiftness he imagines could rival Molly Weasley.  The weight of the small bundle in his arms causes his breath to catch.

James had been a bruiser from the moment he was born, weighing in at just under nine pounds.  Maia was tiny and delicate and at two months old, still smaller than James at birth.

Thea wordlessly hands him a bottle.  “Take her into the sitting room.  Easier to feed her on the sofa”

From his spot at the end of the sofa he can see various pictures of Hermione at different ages scattered around the room and littering the walls.  Beside her pictures are those of Mr. Granger. The non-moving pictures were numerous and made Harry’s heart sink. Mr. Granger hadn’t been gone very long, a little over a year.  Harry knew how terribly Hermione had taken her father’s passing.  How terribly she’d dealt with it. The bundle moved gently, drawing his attention back to her.

Hermione – Harry wondered how often she came to visit their daughter. He almost asked but his own brilliant green eyes stared back up at him from inside the blankets. The view took him by surprise. Hermione had never mentioned Maia looking like him. Then again, in the past ten months or so, they had barely spoken, and neither Harry nor Ron had been with Hermione when Maia was born.

“I’d say she’s a fair mix of the both of you.” Thea had given him a few minutes before joining on a neighboring high-backed chair. She studied him briefly. “I’m not sure on her temperament yet though,” Thea added with a smile. “You’ve both got a penchant for danger so I’m afraid we’re both up the duff there.” Thea caught herself and placed a hand over her mouth.  “Forgive the lapse in judgement and poor phrasing. She doesn’t sleep very much or very well and I’m not as young as I was the first time around.”

Harry looked at Thea, she appeared older than the last time he had seen her just after Mr. Granger had passed, and much more tired.

“Bit harder to do alone.” She forces a smile.  He wonders if she’s truly a witch with the way she reads his mind.

Perhaps they hadn’t fully realized the burden they’d placed on Thea.  So newly widowed and raising her only daughter’s child – a child who did not belong to her son-in-law. With her daughter’s marriage in trouble and a baby who needed family, what else could she do?

“I asked to take her Harry.” Thea replied to his thoughts again. “Would Ginny have let you parent her with Hermione or raise her as her own?”

Harry takes in his daughter’s face, swallows thickly, and shakes his head.

“No,” he says softly. “I don’t know if Ron would be too thrilled with those options either.”

Thea thinks for a moment and sips her tea. “Maybe the second option – I think he would warm to it more than Ginny. He’s a bit hot-headed at first but eventually cools.” She raises her cup again, “at least that’s what I’ve experienced.”

Harry thinks for a moment. Ron does usually come around, sometimes needing a push.

“I’d like to visit more often, if you’ll allow it. You can call me her uncle if it would make it easier,” Harry adds though the thought of being Maia’s uncle tears at his heart.

“Harry, you can visit whenever you like.”

He had for a while until the visits caused a pronounced change in schedule.  He didn’t want to stir Ginny’s suspicions when she was just beginning to trust him again.

Having grown up without his own parents, the thought of not seeing Maia grow up tore at his heart.

Maia being raised by Ron and Hermione with him and Ginny as her Godparents was essentially what he had proposed to Thea.

*~*~*

              The sound of James’ cry roused him from his thoughts. He was out of bed before Ginny could stir.  This pregnancy had been harder on her than the last, she was more tired in general but that could have something to do with a bustling two-year-old.

              He loved Ginny and their family more than anything in the world.  After living in a cupboard under the stairs, being tormented daily and virtually neglected emotionally throughout his adolescence, he was terrified of risking the family he had built.  Maia was cared for, he reasoned with himself.  Thea loved and adored his daughter. It was a different situation than what he lived in at the Dursleys.

              Then why did he feel a sense of dread similar to the feeling he would get before returning to number 4 Privet Drive at the beginning of each summer.

              “What’s wrong mate?” Harry smoothed the shock of black hair on his son’s head which promptly feathered back up.

              “Missed Da.” James nuzzled his head into Harry’s neck. 

              Harry kissed his son’s head. “Da’s not going anywhere.  I’m just across the hall,” he said with some guilt as he rocked the boy back to sleep.

              Harry slipped back into bed and curled himself around his wife.

              “James go back down easy?” She whispered into the darkness.

              He pulled her closer.  “Easy enough,” he replied kissing her neck. “For James anyway,” he added smiling into her flaming hair.

              Ginny gave a soft laugh. “Your son, that one.”

              “He’s a good boy,” Harry added as he pressed a hand to where the newest Potter was doing somersaults.

              “That he is.”

              Harry had fallen into a light sleep when he heard her speak again.

              “Harry?”

              “Yes Luv?” he mumbled sleepily.

              “I don’t want you to resent me forever for this,” she said into the darkness.

              “Resent you?” he flicked the lights on with his wand and reached for his glasses.  “Gin, never in a million years.”

              “What if you never have another daughter except,” Ginny swallowed hard before speaking her name. “Except Maia.”

              “Then I have my wife and my boys.” His stomach churned.

              “She’ll go to Hogwarts.”

              Harry hadn’t thought of that.  Maia and James would be in the same year.

              “What if she and James become friends?” she worried her bottom lip between her teeth.

              “It’s nine years away,” he spoke with a sigh.

              Ginny paused a beat and they sat in silence before she pushed herself up to sit beside him.  He wrapped an arm around her, and she rested her head on his shoulder.

              “When was the last time you saw her?” she asked quietly.

              Harry stiffened.

              “I knew that’s where you’d been. You wouldn’t risk your family again.”

              He nodded and sighed.  She was right, he wouldn’t.

              “She-she had just started talking.” His voice was a whisper in the dimly lit room. Ginny grew still beside him. “She said Da.  She’d called me Da.” And if she went to live with Ron and Hermione, she’d call Ron Da.”

              “Did you and Hermione ever go visit together.”

              Loaded question, he thought. It was more of a question of how much time he had spent with Hermione.

              “As far as I know Hermione hasn’t seen Maia since the day she was born.  Or Mrs. Granger for that matter.”

              Ginny frowned and looked at him questioningly.

              “Thea-Mrs. Granger, made a point of telling me that she hadn’t.”

              “Seriously?” That didn’t sound like the sister-in-law she remembered.

              “She said Hermione had suffered from some sort of depression during her pregnancy and pretty bad post-partum depression after Maia was born.” He paused before adding, “It was pretty severe, Gin.”

              “It’s called guilt,” she said without sympathy.

              Harry recoiled a bit.  He knew what guilt felt like. Guilt didn’t cause suffering the way Hermione had.

              “It started before Maia,” he said carefully.  “Ron brought her to a muggle hospital after she was born though.”

              “Why a muggle hospital?” she asked despite herself.

              “Hermione Granger Weasley in St. Mungo’s – The press would have had a field day.”

              “Did,” she began and started again. “Why did Ron tell you?”       

              “No one else to tell I suppose.” Harry wrapped a fiery strand of her hair around his finger and uncoiled it again. “Thea has Maia. Your Mum hasn’t really spoken to her – neither have you and I’m not saying you should,” he added quickly. “Ron needed someone to talk to and I don’t think he was any happier that it was me than you are.”

              “Mmhmm.” Was the only reply he received.

              “Maybe you should spend some time with your brother,” he suggested. “He may understand how you’re feeling.”

              “I could gouge my eyes out with a spoon too.”

              Harry shook his head when she added, “I do doubt he would agree with my assessment that the Cruciatus didn’t do it’”

              He cringed inwardly.  It was something his wife would never understand. He knew she was still hurting but thought of Hermione’s screams at Malfoy Manor made him flinch.

              “What if we go visit Maia at Mrs. Grangers?” he proposed after a beat. “I want you to be comfortable with your decision in the long run.”

              Ginny sighed. “Can I think about it?”

              “Take as much time as you need.”