and i thought this day would never come.
Title: Evidence of Things Not Seen.
Chapter: Seven - "And A Threefold Cord Is Not Quickly Broken" (word count - 6000ish )
(previous chapter is here.)
Author: mrsquizzical
Series: This is part two in the "All That They Had Not Lost" story.
Fandom: Harry Potter
Ship: Trio
Rating: MT (Mature Themes)
Author's Notes:
This chapter is being posted in an unfinished state rather than being abandoned all together.
It contains some notes, marked thus: --[ ]-- and also exerpts of instant messenger conversations between myself and maple_mahogany as she held my hand through the process, and most of the last part is made up of incomplete sections without proper punctuation, sentence structure or capitalisation.
I apologise to readers who feel that doing it this way was taking the lesser option.
~~*~~
"And A Threefold Cord Is Not Quickly Broken"
"Well..." Ron's muffled voice spoke from behind Charlotte's sleeping form. "That was weird."
"Mmmghlfl," mumbled Harry.
Hermione rolled over - one arm still pinned to the bed by her younger daughter's weight - and saw Harry emerge from the duvet. He squinted at the wall before collapsing face down onto his pillow.
"Oh Merlin. My head."
"What did Fred give you to drink last night, Harry?" Hermione asked sympathetically. She reached over to touch him. It was an awkward angle so she only managed to lay her hand somewhere in the vicinity of his lower back.
He drew his knees up and rolled onto his side, catching her hand in both of his, and holding it in front of him as he tried again to open his eyes.
"Something green," he muttered. "Should've known. Green stuff is always a Bad Idea."
Hermione bit her lip to not smile too widely at the pathetic sight before her.
"So," Ron spoke again. "I had the oddest dream." He waited until he had their attention before continuing. " It kept changing from one thing -urgh, get your hair out - phtt - of my -pfft - mouth, Charlie. Ugh." He moved away from the ginger cloud in front of him. "Can still remember bits and pieces. I think we were in that poncy cafe in Diagon Alley first. I think it changed then to ... to Grimmauld Place? And then we were in that bloody forest..."
Hermione was suddenly quite awake.
"And then you were in Harry's old house. Weren't you?" she asked.
"Yeah." Ron strained his head up to look at her. "How did you..."
Hermione held on firmly to Harry's hand.
"It finished in a cupboard. Under some... stairs."
"Yeah. And these sodding spiders."
Hermione let the picture of Harry -the feeling of being Harry- lying on his side, eyes fixed on the strips of light visible through the vent in the door. She tried to send a message to the little boy she had seen, had been, that it was all going to be okay. That even though he felt so alone right now, even though it seemed no one knew; no one cared, it was all going to change.
He would grow up. Get away. Become handsome and strong. She tried to tell him that he would make friends one day. Fall in love. Have a family of his own.
And that he would have not just one, but two partners who loved him and cared for him and delighted in him.
That he would be a father. That he would find happiness.
Hermione could feel the tension rolling off Harry. She turned to look at Ron. He was leaning up on one elbow, staring at her.
"You had the same dream?" he asked her.
She nodded.
They both looked at Harry. He dropped Hermione's hand and sat up. His thoughts were jumbled about, rolling uncomfortably through the alcohol induced fog in his mind.
They'd seen. They'd felt it.
Just as he'd felt the heavy darkness that was lurking still, held at bay, but always threatening to sink over Hermione and pull her back into the pit. And the mind melting fear and anger Ron had known in the forest. The self disgust and despair that came with his inability to help.
That meant they'd felt the rest, too. They knew.
He felt so small and stupid. Just like he had when he'd been in that cupboard under the stairs with only the spiders for company.
Sparing only a moment to imagine Ron's horror at that, he looked away from them and back at his daughter. The Angel's eyes seemed to hold too much understanding for a person not even [?] months old.
"Does that mean... you both... "
"Me, too!"
All three adults looked at Little Charlie.
"I sometimes dream about that big house."
"Wasn't that Grimmauld Place?" asked Ron.
"I've dreamt about the cupboard before, too, but not for a long time. Not since we lived here."
Miranda began to wriggle, trying to kick her legs free of the duvet. She was lying on her back, with her thumb firmly in her mouth, eyes open and staring into the middle distance.
Charlie slipped out of bed and padded into the bathroom
Harry stared up at the ceiling watching the morning sun make patterns through the curtains. His heart thumped in his chest and his throat felt tight and dry.
Ron's hand hesitated, reaching out before resting on Harry's arm.
"Shit," he whispered, "Why didn't you just tell us?"
Harry's eyes shut. There were so many images in his mind from that jumbled dream. So many moments that should rate higher in impact, but the one that cut deepest was still there, waiting for him.
He couldn't explain why this mattered. It was ridiculous. Had all happened so long ago.
He sneered slightly at himself, and opened his eyes again.
"Tell you what?"
"What? The drama with the Angel and the thumb! If we'd known that's why it was such a big deal--"
"It's not a big deal. It's stupid."
"Stop it Harry!" interrupted Hermione.
Ron rolled up onto his hands and knees and crawled over to Hermione. He extended one leg and one arm over her side until he was straddling her.
He dropped a kiss onto her nose, "Morning love," as he slid past, trying to find room to continue over to her other side.
"Ouch!" complained Harry. "What are you--? Fuck that's my leg. You great..."
"Stop whinging, Potter."
Ron pushed Harry down onto his back and then wrapped himself around him; one long leg hooked over Harry's, his foot wedged across his shins. His lower arm tunneled under Harry's neck --"Nnff, my HAIR!" "God you're a pussy."-- until he could hold his own hands together against Harry's wriggling chest. "Get OFF!" "Oh shut up."
Hermione gently shifted Miranda over so that she could roll and face them.
"Harry," she scolded. "It's not stupid."
"But how you're acting is stupid."
"Ron!" Hermione's tone was disapproving.
"Well it is. Just like old times, huh?"
"Me being pathetic. 'Poor Harry'."
"It's not pathetic!" Hermione repeated. "I can't help but wonder-"
"I was little. It was pretty lonely in my cupboard,"
" 'Course you were, mate." Ron exchanged a look with Hermione and edged in closer to Harry. "It's fine," he said, more seriously, " don't blame you."
"Just when I saw you with Miranda..."
"So I was treating that little Angel like your bloody Aunt treated you?"
"No!" Brilliant. "You didn't slap her. Or call her pathetic, or-" Harry took a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh. "It doesn't matter. Of course you didn't. You wouldn't. I know that. I didn't mean that you..."
"Good," interrupted Ron. "Because I'd never do any of those things, and you do know that. If you don't, you're a bigger nob than we realised!"
Hermione put a hand to Harry's cheek. "It doesn't matter," she whispered. "I don't really mind."
"You hate it," said Harry. His voice was tight in his throat. He could feel Ron's soothing presence wrapped around him like a quilt, and Hermione's face was open and loving, but he couldn't be convinced so smoothly.
"I've seen your face when you see her sucking her thumb. You don't like it and I hate to think that she sees you looking at her that way. I don't want her growing up thinking she does that to her Mother."
"Oh Harry!" Tears sprang to Hermione's eyes. "No! I'm not thinking... that or...whatever it is you're thinking. I do worry about her teeth. I can't help it! I was raised by dentists! I never tasted sugar until I went to Hogwarts!"
Ron grumbled into Harry's hair. No sweets. What a mental idea!
"And, also... I can't help but think it's my fault."
Ron's face appeared. "Fault? It's no one's fault. And even if it was, why yours?"
"Well, if I'd not lost the plot, and been so..."
"Hermione!" Both boys exclaimed in chorus.
"She'd not have needed her thumb if I'd been more nurturing."
She could feel tears burning the backs of her eyes, threatening to well up, but rather than dissolve and allow the boys to comfort her, she found that she could rein them back in and instead gave them a rather watery smile.
As though on cue, Miranda snuffled closer to Hermione's breast, and not finding a waiting nipple, put her thumb firmly back into her mouth and sucked seriously.
Hermione looked up and smiled as Charlotte walked back into the room. She had taken a moment to dress herself for the day in a pair of purple and orange footless tights, a large Chuddley Cannons t-shirt which hung to her knees, and was belted at the waist with a spotted headscarf. The bed dipped down as she climbed back up onto the bed and leant over to look at Miranda.
She watched for a few moments before putting her own thumb into her mouth and sucking experimentally. She wrinkled her nose and pulled it back out with a 'pop' before grimacing and wiping on the pillowcase.
"So Harry, do you feel better letting her, because you weren't allowed to? Just like Mummy doesn't really mind when you and Daddy give me chocolate and sweets."
"What on earth?" exclaimed Hermione. "I most certainly do mind!"
"You never say 'no'. You always say 'Your grandmother would be horrified',"Charlie mimiced Hermione's inflection, kneeling up on the bed with her hands on her hips.
Ron threw his head back and roared with laughter. Harry bit his lip and swallowed a chuckle of his own.
"I think she's hungry," she said reproachfully to Hermione, "and so am I."
"Didn't we feed you yesterday?" asked Ron with a groan, "You want food again?"
"Daddy! That's just not funny!"
"Sure it is," muttered Ron laying back onto the pillow.
"I'll go," said Harry, running his fingers through his hair, making it all stand on end. Charlie giggled, before pulling on his hand roughly.
"Ow. My head."
"Hungry, Harry! Come on!"
"All right Charles. I could really do with a coffee right about now anyway."
Grasping the hand that Charlie still had in his, he suddenly flipped her over and gathered her in his arms, head downward, feet waving in the air. Ron and Hermione listened to her shrieks disappear along the hallway and down the stairs.
Ron slid over into the warm patch of bed that Harry had left behind, and snuggled his face between Hermiones shoulder blades as she gathered the baby to her and settled her at her breast. Before he could doze off she spoke.
"I've missed that."
"Hmmmm?"
"The bond. The connection. Feeling you both. Knowing you both can feel me, too. That sense that I don't have to try and explain myself. Because you would already just know."
There was silence for a moment
"Bit of a surprise with the girls there, too, wasn't it? The dream."
"Yes. It certainly was."
"All that soul leaking about all over the place when you were pregnant, I suppose."
"When I was pregnant and we were all making love together, you mean."
"And that. Yeah." Ron squirmed a little. He didn't really want to think about that too much. "I mean, Charlie's never even been to Grimmauld Place, has she? Nor the Angel, that's for sure!"
"I felt her there. Miranda. When we did the ritual."
"Yeah?"
"It didn't feel wrong. I never thought about it again. Do you think we should... do something? "
Hermione felt Ron moving around behind her, stretching the sleep out of his limbs. He shuffled higher up the bed and tucked his head over the top of hers, slipping an arm around her waist, pressing his open hand to her stomach.
A few things started to sort themselves into place in Hermione's thoughts. The way that Harry had always had such an obvious bond with both girls. The way he would appear as Miranda started to get unsettled, asking if she was okay. The way he always seemed to know when Charlotte was looking for him.
"Have you noticed it before? The way they've got a bond?"
"Dunno really. Nice for Harry I s'pose."
His fingers brushed back and forth over the fabric of Hermione's night shirt. There didn't seem to be any intent to it. Just feeling the texture of the fabric and the way it wrinkled up against her skin. He cleared his throat quietly before mumblng, "Just proves more that he really is a part of this family."
The distant sounds of voices and clatter of dishes drifted up the stairs. It wasn't loud enough to cover the snuffles and slurps of the baby having her breakfast in the bed next to them.
"Do you? Miss it?" She didn't explain what she was referring to.
Ron nodded against her back
"Might have avoided some of this mess."
"I suppose we were so used to just knowing that we got a little... lazy."
"We need to try something else, then. Perhaps talking or something?"
His hand stroked more firmly along her stomach, and then down to cup her hip.
"So you're really feeling better, then?"
Hermione thought of the potion, constantly brewing on the work top in the kitchen. She still took her spoonful each day but was glad to know that it was half the strength it had been. "Much."
Fingers squeezed gently into the softness of her skin. "You look like you feel better. I'm glad."
Hermione could hear the deliberate gentleness in his tone. The hesitancy and caution at bringing up the thing that had so marred their last few months. She leant back, putting more of her weight against his chest in a silent thankyou.
"It's still ... there... and everything is so much more difficult than I imagined."
Ron made a little questioning noise.
"Two children. Two husbands..."
"Right."
"And I'm tired of hiding away and being frightened. Tired of doing nothing about it."
Ron's grip tightened a little on her hip.
"I don't want to hide anymore, Ron."
"OK."
His face pressed into her hair and fingers slid up over her waist, skimmed her breast and neck, before gathering up the curls around her face and flattening them down enough for him to reach over and kiss her neck. "OK," he repeated into her skin. Hermione pressed back, hooking her foot over his shin and feeling the answering pressure as he rolled forward. She knew that things wouldn't progress past the simple caress. The physical show of emotional support. Not while the baby lay awake, feeding and staring up at Hermione with wide eyes. Eyes that were becoming greener every day
Still it was soothing to lie here together, feeling comfortable and wanted. To feel his hands on her skin. To want him as well.
~*~
---[discussion where trio decide to go out more into the world.
to not hide. strategy for hermione's first excursion out.
first time they are all ready to go out- owl freaks baby out. trying to land on her.
all their friends know to send things to h,hr or r.
discover it's from a journalist. spell to take photo when it is received.
they all stay home.]---
~*~
Harry stood still. He looked about at the trees where he had Disapparated to, and tried to allow the calm of the afternoon seep into his mind and soothe his frustration.
His day had been filled with frustration. A lesson in futility from start to finish. Bloody red tape. Bloody Ministry departments and their mountains of bloody parchment.
Bloody journalists and their un-solicited owls.
It had always been annoying, dodging the unwanted attention of the press, but now they had started to target Charlie and the baby. And that was just Not On. Neither Harry nor Ron had realised how difficult it would be to fill out what should be simple paperwork, to block owls finding the girls, redirecting post to one of them. Ron was working all day, so Harry had trudged into Diagon Alley and along to the Ministry and then proceeded to queue for hours at a time, simply to be told he was in the wrong department. It hadn't helped that when he'd finally managed to find the correct forms to fill in, and the appropriate desk to hand them to, he hadn't been allowed to file the paperwork for Charlie. Or Hermione. Adding to his aggravation, the old clerk at the desk had raised an eyebrow and said with amusement, "You honestly haven't worked that out before now? The spell recognises paternity and matrimonial rights, son. Better let the real father come in and sort it out."
It shouldn't have mattered so much to him. It shouldn't, but it did. Because as much as they thought of themselves as a family, he had no paternal claim over Charlie. And no legal rights at all in regards to Hermione or Ron. If one of them were admitted to St Mungo's he'd need the other's express permission to visit.
Harry breathed in through his nose and blew the air out slowly.
There was already a chance that Little Charlie had sensed his upset. It explained so much about her intuiting his moods so accurately.She'd always just known the best time to clamber into his lap for a cuddle, or pull a ridiculous face to make him laugh.
And as potentially disturbing as the idea was - him having some sort of soul connection with her because of inadvertant sex magic with her mother while she was not yet born - Harry loved that it gave validity to the feeling he'd always had for her. That even though he wasn't actually her Father, they were part of each other. He wondered if Ron felt the same about Miranda. A twinge of guilt stung him when he thought of how threatened he'd felt over his daughter. She really was theirs.
He didn't want to make things worse by storming into the house with his temper still fizzling about. He could practically see sparks. Actually he could see sparks; shooting from his wand.
"Get a grip, Potter," he muttered to himself.
Harry concentrated on the 'edge' of his feelings. The background hum that he'd come to realise was his connection with the girls. Miranda was starting to wake up, partly due to his own spilling aggravation. He took some deep breaths and concentrated on feelings of affection and anticipation of seeing the girls. To try and help soothe her back to sleep.
Harry walked slowly down the lane until he came to the bend and could see the settled warmth of Bramley Lodge.
"Harry's home!"
He could hear Little Charlie's announcement ring through the house as he trudged up the gravel path towards the front door. Before he had a chance to reach out for the handle, the door was flung open and a little girl jumped up into his arms.
~*~
"Time for a pint?" Ron turned and grinned at Harry as they made their way - finally- out into the dreary, cold afternoon. Diagon Alley was not very busy; the Christmas rush not yet started. "We could sneak in to the Leaky and be back before everyone comes over."
He watched as Harry rolled his head from one side to the other, trying to release some of the tension that had been drawing his shoulders up tighter around his ears through the tedious afternoon spent finalising the Owl Redirections. "Hermione won't be too impressed," he muttered in reply. "She's already shirty at being left behind."
She really hadn't been happy that after coming to the long postponed decision to not stay home all the time, their errand was one for which she wasn't actually required. Ron was legally able to do all paperwork in her name. He was also concerned that the girls should not have to deal with any unpleasantness in public. Harry had conceded the fact, though Ron guessed that he was hoping for a chance to show their baby off to the world, to hold her in his arms and say 'Yes. I'm not ashamed of her. Of us," but it was only asking for trouble to be so conspicuous. They needed to start small. So Hermione had stayed home, under sufference, with the girls.
"Yeah. S'pose so. And Neville and the others will be over soon. We should just Floo from Wheezes'."
The pair walked past the pub entrance and continued down the Alley towards the bright purple shopfront. Ron enjoyed the feeling of Harry's shoulder bumping his a little as they walked. He would have liked to rest his arm around his mate's shoulder, run a hand down his back and soothed away some of the dark mood that hung around him. He considered reaching down and taking Harry's hand in his, but decided that there was no sense in tempting fate.
"That's Harry Potter!" a young voice hissed loudly -as though on cue - behind them as they walked past Flourish and Blotts. "I'm going to ask him to sign my Defense Book!"
Ron smirked as Harry rolled his eyes and then put on his 'polite face'. Their day had so far been without incident, and there were worse things to face than a young autograph hunter.
"No, you will not," an older voice insisted.
"Awwww, Mum. Why not?"
"Not while he is with his..."
"His what?"
"His... friend..."
The patient expression melted off Harry's face. For a moment he just looked blankly at Ron. Ron could feel his ears and cheeks heat up. There was no mistaking the sneer in the woman's tone.
Caught up in his own embarassment, Ron nearly missed the shift in Harry's manner as he turned to face the speakers.
"Mate," he whispered, fingertips touching Harry's back as he leaned in towards his shoulder. "Just leave it."
"Would you like my friend's autograph, too? He's a War Hero, you know. Ron Weasley."
Oh, Harry. Shut. Up.
Ron moved his hand from Harry's back around to his elbow. He tried to pull him away.
"I know who Mr. Weasley is," the woman said with a tight mouth.
"Then you'll know that he deserves your respect and gratitude."
"Harry, come on," muttered Ron, smiling apologetically at the young girl. She was looking, bewildered, from her mother to the two men.
Ron grasped Harry around the upper arm and dragged him away.
"Pleasure to meet you," he said over his shoulder, trying to drown out Harry's continuing bitter tirade.
"Chapter 35, Hogwarts- A History revised edition," he was shouting, "Look it up! I don't recognise you. I'm assuming you weren't There!"
Harry wrenched his arm free from Ron's grip and walked quickly ahead of him down the Alley.
"Harry!" Ron called after him. He tried to ignore the faces of the wizards and witches who turned towards the fracas. He ran a few steps to catch up, and spun Harry back to face him. "Calm down! She's just a stupid old cow. No need to--"
"It's not just this!" Harrry interrupted him, running a hand through his hair and letting out a strangled growl of irritation. "It's her. I upset her."
Ron frowned. The girl hadn't walked away with an autograph but she had a jolly good story to tell her friends at school. He really didn't think it was worth this outburst.
Harry closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. "Angel. I upset her. Or she's upsetting me." He made another frustrated sound and muttered, "I don't even know any more," and opened the door they were standing next to.
"Welcome to Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes," a cheery voice said in Ron's ear. He caught it just in time before it shut and slipped in behind Harry. "The only place to buy your--" Ron waved his hand, cutting short the automatic spiel.
He looked around the shop, going up on his toes to find the wild black hair he was searching for.
George caught his eye and tipped his head in the direction of a door shutting on the other side of the display. Ron nodded and made his way through the shoppers towards the entry to the flat upstairs. A rush of green flame reflected off the paintwork on the stairwell. He took the stairs two at a time and followed his mate into the fireplace.
~*~
The Floo rattled behind Hermione, and she turned just in time to see Harry tumble out. It wasn't a great surprise as she'd been busily trying to calm down a fractious baby for the past ten minutes. She jumped up to intercept him before he noticed the woman sitting across the kitchen table from them, tea cup clenched between white knuckled hands. Charlotte had been leaning up against her chair. She moved to stand beside her mother, hiding slightly behind her leg and holding on to the fabric of her skirt.
Harry raised his eyebrows at Hermione, narrowing his eyes at the same time. His lips were already pressed together in a straight line. He was obviously trying to control whatever was about to come out of his mouth, and Hermione thought, Good! Maybe this awareness of how he was linked to the children would be a good thing for his self control.
He brushed his hands down his legs and arms, flicking away the evidence of his journey through the fire, and then turned to face Ron who was stepping out of the fireplace. "Hermione has a visitor. Apparently."
Penny pushed her chair back and got to her feet. "I'll go, Hermione. Thankyou for the tea. I..." She swallowed as her eyes rested first on Charlotte, still half hidden at Hermione's side, and then Miranda, grumbling and wriggling in her arms, and turned and picked up her cloak that was folded on the chair next to her. "I won't bother you again. Thankyou... for listening." The edges of her cloak brushed against Ron as she walked past him towards the french doors opening out to the back garden. Hermione saw him clench his jaw, flinching with distaste at the contact. Her hand paused on the handle and she turned to face Harry and Ron. "I'm sorry. Really I am." No one spoke as they watched her take a few more paces and then turn, disappearing with a sharp pop that they could hear through the glass.
The silence that lingered over her departure was broken as Charlotte pushed away from Hermione's leg and threw herself at Harry. He stooped to pick her up, resting her in the crook of one arm. Miranda wriggled a little in Hermione's grip, stretching her hands out towards Harry. Hermione stepped up closer to him to allow him to ruffle his hand through her tuft of dark hair. "Hey there, Angel. You ok now?" The little girl grasped the sleeve of his cloak firmly in her fist and bah bah bah-ed very seriously at him before making a lunge at his glasses. Hermione stepped back, untangling the little fingers from Harry's arm and glanced at Ron.
He was standing with his arms folded, an expectant look on his face as he caught her eye.
"She's broken off all contact with Marietta."
"I couldn't condone it anymore," Penelope had stuttered out, standing awkwardly at the front door. "All I could see was your daughter's face. Percy's niece. So frightened. And Marietta wasn't sorry at all."
Hermione had moved to the side and invited her sister-in-law through into the kitchen with a nod of her head. Charlotte had abandoned her drawing the moment she saw her, gluing herself to her mother's side.
"I had no idea she would target the children."
It had been easier for Hermione to occupy her hands making a pot of tea, cutting slices of fruit cake and arranging them on a plate, than to meet Penny's eyes. She wanted to stay cold and cross. Not feel sympathy for this woman who had brought so much pain to their extended family.
"She wished us well." Hermione still felt conflicted. She had sat through too many uncomfortable afternoons at The Burrow, trying to shield Harry from her sister-in-law's thinly veiled insults, to forgive so quickly.
"I am lonely now. Percy was my family and now I have pushed away the people that he loved." Her long fingers had fiddled with her teaspoon, shifted her cup in its saucer, smoothed out invisible creases in the table cloth. "I thought that if Marietta lost her informant- if she had no more inside information - she couldn't write such hurtful pieces. It was naive of me to think she would focus elsewhere. She carries a real grudge. I didn't realise that cutting myself off as a source would compell her to become more aggressive rather than less."
Hermione hadn't been able to think of any reply. She had just sat quietly, finally allowing Penny to meet her eyes, and hoping that she saw enough of Hermione's own mixed feelings to understand. "I know i've acted very poorly. I am no Gryffindor, Hermione. Percy had forgiven his family. I didn't think I could do the same. But now I realise that I must. I was wrong to... My bitterness has done his memory no favours."
~*~
--[hermione tells them of conversation - penny disillusioned with marietta.
when she saw charlie's face. realised how bitter she was being.
how percy had managed to forgive his family.
it was incumbent on her to do so, too.
she knows marietta won't lose her job, but she no longer has her 'inside information'.
'i hope you will all be happy together.'
*she hadn't realised that cutting herself off as a source would compell marietta to get more aggressive and target the girls.]--
~*~
The unmistakable sound of a car making its way up the rough lane towards their house.
"Tourists?" questioned Ron with a shrug of his shoulders. There was nowhere for a car to turn in the alley. Instead of the back and forth of a three (or more- their front yard was quite small) point turn, the sound of wheels coming to a halt in the gravel. The engine switched off and Hermione ran after Charlotte to catch her before she opened the door to a complete stranger.
"It's Neville!" she squeaked. "Neville and Anna came in a car."
Ron and Harry raised eyebrows at each other and came out to see.
"He did so well!" Anna was saying. "I drove on the motorway, but he took over before we got to the village."
--[others arrive: george, luna, fred. angelina arrives separately with chn.
luna is starting to show. instead of pregnancy making her more vague she is more focused and 'busy'.
she follows hermione around asking her about progress with her research into the matrimony spell.
they discuss how it's necessary for other 'non conventional' couples etc needing the spell work and magical law to catch up with things.
others ask what they're talking about. she explains:]--
'I have actually been looking into it. How to make an adjustment to the matrimony spell. Ever since all this nonsense with the owls. In my notes from when Remus and I were investigating the erm... ritual. There was a reference to--"
"What ritual are we talking about?" asked Anna.
--Neville gets flustered, tries to explain.
**George: "What? more sex magic, huh?" He waggled his eyebrows dramatically at Ron.
Hermione: "Actually nothing like that. It seems that it will be quite a simple matter.
Due to the fact that our magic has merged to such an extent already, and that we have children together."
"that's a bit back to front isn't it?"
"morals of society not necessarily true to the nature of magic. these spells are extremely old.
long before they were overlaid with the insipid victorian-esque "morality" of the last few hundred years! since the witch hunts.
kept the suspicion of that era.
The spell will automatically change the girls' names to "Potter Weasley" - alphabetical order.
"How terribly Ravenclaw of it."
no mention at all of Granger, naturally.
"because you're a woman?"
"no. because i'm muggle born"
well, 'miranda granger potter weasley' is a bit of a mouthful for such a tiny person.
George snuffled his nose into Miranda's neck. 'Lot of trouble caused by such a tiny person, too, yeah?"
"George!" Hermione frowned.
Anna gasped. "That's all she needs! On top of everything. A bloody complex!"
--Looking at Luna who was sitting cross legged on one of the straight backed kitchen chairs. Belly rounding slightly.
doing something for charlie? plaiting her hair?
Hermione took Miranda back - she stretching arms out.
"So how is luna doing? how are YOU doing?"
"All this wedding talk doesn't mean you can start getting all soppy on me. i'm FINE. i'm great."
*unimpressed look*
"We're good Hermione." George's gaze softened as it rested ...
"Now she's stopped with all the vomiting. that was fun. i don't think. her idea was a good one.
Puking Pastilles anti dote. new packaging and we'll make a small fortune now. "
"and lee...?"
"aah! Hermione. i've already had Ron being all sensitive and touchy feely."
"you mean 'Emotionally competent'?"
"Whatever. Like I told my disturbingly concerned baby brother, and his tiresomely kind husband-to-be. I am happy for Lee. I am happy that he's found a charming, witty, non-ginger bit of arse to step out with. Yes he is still my best mate. Yes I miss him a bit since he moved out. No it's not the same since we're no longer living on top of each oth--" His facade of cheerfullness broke for the first time. He took a breath. "It wasn't ever going to be the same thing for us as for you lot." *moment of honesty* maybe since he knew she saw the drop of facade? "That was Luna. Her idea. Not mine."
she hugs him.
Miranda grasps at her drink. it breaks the moment.
"So," George said, grasping at the change of topic," you're looking good. Better."
~*~
--[hermione works out the spell.]--
~*~
mrs quizzical: my writing has changed a lot. there has been no explicit sex so far. but i feel a little eye rolly doing it poetically. but it might be too much to have an actual sex scene there.
mrs quizzical: not too much, but just out of place.
Maple Mahogany: it would be perfectly fine to include an opening A/N to that chapter or whatever just saying 'i've been writing this story for X years and my writing process has evolved so if X seems out of place, it's because I have matured/progressed in my comfort zone as a writer'
Maple Mahogany: simple and honest
mrs quizzical: that's actually not a bad idea
Maple Mahogany: and I think your story would be better served for you writing to your best and most inspired process
Maple Mahogany: rather than 'holding back'
mrs quizzical: ....
mrs quizzical: you just want a threesome, right?
Maple Mahogany: naturally
~*~
--[and then they all have sex.]--
~*~
mrs quizzical: i was thinking of like... hermione looking forward to getting home later, going over all the things that ron had been whispering in her ear the night before while he fucked her (keeping the language in keeping with the story) telling her what harry was doing, what harry wanted to do. so it's like. suggested and stuff, but still 'there'
Maple Mahogany: that sounds nice.
~*~
--[and then they (mostly) live happily ever after. (for now) ]--
~*~
mrs quizzical: anyway. for the ending.
mrs quizzical: so instead of having them all 'fixed' i just want to end it showing they are on their way to fixed. so maybe just heading out for their first dinner together in public or something - like you suggested i think?
mrs quizzical: and then she could keep imagining how things could be, now things are getting better. imagining living in that house for years, and the girls growing up etc
mrs quizzical: maybe finish with imagining the next day and her plans. and sort of saying how it was fine. it was good.
Maple Mahogany: I like it
mrs quizzical: so do i.
~~*~~
Epilogue>
Chapter: Seven - "And A Threefold Cord Is Not Quickly Broken" (word count - 6000ish )
(previous chapter is here.)
Author: mrsquizzical
Series: This is part two in the "All That They Had Not Lost" story.
Fandom: Harry Potter
Ship: Trio
Rating: MT (Mature Themes)
Author's Notes:
This chapter is being posted in an unfinished state rather than being abandoned all together.
It contains some notes, marked thus: --[ ]-- and also exerpts of instant messenger conversations between myself and maple_mahogany as she held my hand through the process, and most of the last part is made up of incomplete sections without proper punctuation, sentence structure or capitalisation.
I apologise to readers who feel that doing it this way was taking the lesser option.
~~*~~
"And A Threefold Cord Is Not Quickly Broken"
"Well..." Ron's muffled voice spoke from behind Charlotte's sleeping form. "That was weird."
"Mmmghlfl," mumbled Harry.
Hermione rolled over - one arm still pinned to the bed by her younger daughter's weight - and saw Harry emerge from the duvet. He squinted at the wall before collapsing face down onto his pillow.
"Oh Merlin. My head."
"What did Fred give you to drink last night, Harry?" Hermione asked sympathetically. She reached over to touch him. It was an awkward angle so she only managed to lay her hand somewhere in the vicinity of his lower back.
He drew his knees up and rolled onto his side, catching her hand in both of his, and holding it in front of him as he tried again to open his eyes.
"Something green," he muttered. "Should've known. Green stuff is always a Bad Idea."
Hermione bit her lip to not smile too widely at the pathetic sight before her.
"So," Ron spoke again. "I had the oddest dream." He waited until he had their attention before continuing. " It kept changing from one thing -urgh, get your hair out - phtt - of my -pfft - mouth, Charlie. Ugh." He moved away from the ginger cloud in front of him. "Can still remember bits and pieces. I think we were in that poncy cafe in Diagon Alley first. I think it changed then to ... to Grimmauld Place? And then we were in that bloody forest..."
Hermione was suddenly quite awake.
"And then you were in Harry's old house. Weren't you?" she asked.
"Yeah." Ron strained his head up to look at her. "How did you..."
Hermione held on firmly to Harry's hand.
"It finished in a cupboard. Under some... stairs."
"Yeah. And these sodding spiders."
Hermione let the picture of Harry -the feeling of being Harry- lying on his side, eyes fixed on the strips of light visible through the vent in the door. She tried to send a message to the little boy she had seen, had been, that it was all going to be okay. That even though he felt so alone right now, even though it seemed no one knew; no one cared, it was all going to change.
He would grow up. Get away. Become handsome and strong. She tried to tell him that he would make friends one day. Fall in love. Have a family of his own.
And that he would have not just one, but two partners who loved him and cared for him and delighted in him.
That he would be a father. That he would find happiness.
Hermione could feel the tension rolling off Harry. She turned to look at Ron. He was leaning up on one elbow, staring at her.
"You had the same dream?" he asked her.
She nodded.
They both looked at Harry. He dropped Hermione's hand and sat up. His thoughts were jumbled about, rolling uncomfortably through the alcohol induced fog in his mind.
They'd seen. They'd felt it.
Just as he'd felt the heavy darkness that was lurking still, held at bay, but always threatening to sink over Hermione and pull her back into the pit. And the mind melting fear and anger Ron had known in the forest. The self disgust and despair that came with his inability to help.
That meant they'd felt the rest, too. They knew.
He felt so small and stupid. Just like he had when he'd been in that cupboard under the stairs with only the spiders for company.
Sparing only a moment to imagine Ron's horror at that, he looked away from them and back at his daughter. The Angel's eyes seemed to hold too much understanding for a person not even [?] months old.
"Does that mean... you both... "
"Me, too!"
All three adults looked at Little Charlie.
"I sometimes dream about that big house."
"Wasn't that Grimmauld Place?" asked Ron.
"I've dreamt about the cupboard before, too, but not for a long time. Not since we lived here."
Miranda began to wriggle, trying to kick her legs free of the duvet. She was lying on her back, with her thumb firmly in her mouth, eyes open and staring into the middle distance.
Charlie slipped out of bed and padded into the bathroom
Harry stared up at the ceiling watching the morning sun make patterns through the curtains. His heart thumped in his chest and his throat felt tight and dry.
Ron's hand hesitated, reaching out before resting on Harry's arm.
"Shit," he whispered, "Why didn't you just tell us?"
Harry's eyes shut. There were so many images in his mind from that jumbled dream. So many moments that should rate higher in impact, but the one that cut deepest was still there, waiting for him.
He couldn't explain why this mattered. It was ridiculous. Had all happened so long ago.
He sneered slightly at himself, and opened his eyes again.
"Tell you what?"
"What? The drama with the Angel and the thumb! If we'd known that's why it was such a big deal--"
"It's not a big deal. It's stupid."
"Stop it Harry!" interrupted Hermione.
Ron rolled up onto his hands and knees and crawled over to Hermione. He extended one leg and one arm over her side until he was straddling her.
He dropped a kiss onto her nose, "Morning love," as he slid past, trying to find room to continue over to her other side.
"Ouch!" complained Harry. "What are you--? Fuck that's my leg. You great..."
"Stop whinging, Potter."
Ron pushed Harry down onto his back and then wrapped himself around him; one long leg hooked over Harry's, his foot wedged across his shins. His lower arm tunneled under Harry's neck --"Nnff, my HAIR!" "God you're a pussy."-- until he could hold his own hands together against Harry's wriggling chest. "Get OFF!" "Oh shut up."
Hermione gently shifted Miranda over so that she could roll and face them.
"Harry," she scolded. "It's not stupid."
"But how you're acting is stupid."
"Ron!" Hermione's tone was disapproving.
"Well it is. Just like old times, huh?"
"Me being pathetic. 'Poor Harry'."
"It's not pathetic!" Hermione repeated. "I can't help but wonder-"
"I was little. It was pretty lonely in my cupboard,"
" 'Course you were, mate." Ron exchanged a look with Hermione and edged in closer to Harry. "It's fine," he said, more seriously, " don't blame you."
"Just when I saw you with Miranda..."
"So I was treating that little Angel like your bloody Aunt treated you?"
"No!" Brilliant. "You didn't slap her. Or call her pathetic, or-" Harry took a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh. "It doesn't matter. Of course you didn't. You wouldn't. I know that. I didn't mean that you..."
"Good," interrupted Ron. "Because I'd never do any of those things, and you do know that. If you don't, you're a bigger nob than we realised!"
Hermione put a hand to Harry's cheek. "It doesn't matter," she whispered. "I don't really mind."
"You hate it," said Harry. His voice was tight in his throat. He could feel Ron's soothing presence wrapped around him like a quilt, and Hermione's face was open and loving, but he couldn't be convinced so smoothly.
"I've seen your face when you see her sucking her thumb. You don't like it and I hate to think that she sees you looking at her that way. I don't want her growing up thinking she does that to her Mother."
"Oh Harry!" Tears sprang to Hermione's eyes. "No! I'm not thinking... that or...whatever it is you're thinking. I do worry about her teeth. I can't help it! I was raised by dentists! I never tasted sugar until I went to Hogwarts!"
Ron grumbled into Harry's hair. No sweets. What a mental idea!
"And, also... I can't help but think it's my fault."
Ron's face appeared. "Fault? It's no one's fault. And even if it was, why yours?"
"Well, if I'd not lost the plot, and been so..."
"Hermione!" Both boys exclaimed in chorus.
"She'd not have needed her thumb if I'd been more nurturing."
She could feel tears burning the backs of her eyes, threatening to well up, but rather than dissolve and allow the boys to comfort her, she found that she could rein them back in and instead gave them a rather watery smile.
As though on cue, Miranda snuffled closer to Hermione's breast, and not finding a waiting nipple, put her thumb firmly back into her mouth and sucked seriously.
Hermione looked up and smiled as Charlotte walked back into the room. She had taken a moment to dress herself for the day in a pair of purple and orange footless tights, a large Chuddley Cannons t-shirt which hung to her knees, and was belted at the waist with a spotted headscarf. The bed dipped down as she climbed back up onto the bed and leant over to look at Miranda.
She watched for a few moments before putting her own thumb into her mouth and sucking experimentally. She wrinkled her nose and pulled it back out with a 'pop' before grimacing and wiping on the pillowcase.
"So Harry, do you feel better letting her, because you weren't allowed to? Just like Mummy doesn't really mind when you and Daddy give me chocolate and sweets."
"What on earth?" exclaimed Hermione. "I most certainly do mind!"
"You never say 'no'. You always say 'Your grandmother would be horrified',"Charlie mimiced Hermione's inflection, kneeling up on the bed with her hands on her hips.
Ron threw his head back and roared with laughter. Harry bit his lip and swallowed a chuckle of his own.
"I think she's hungry," she said reproachfully to Hermione, "and so am I."
"Didn't we feed you yesterday?" asked Ron with a groan, "You want food again?"
"Daddy! That's just not funny!"
"Sure it is," muttered Ron laying back onto the pillow.
"I'll go," said Harry, running his fingers through his hair, making it all stand on end. Charlie giggled, before pulling on his hand roughly.
"Ow. My head."
"Hungry, Harry! Come on!"
"All right Charles. I could really do with a coffee right about now anyway."
Grasping the hand that Charlie still had in his, he suddenly flipped her over and gathered her in his arms, head downward, feet waving in the air. Ron and Hermione listened to her shrieks disappear along the hallway and down the stairs.
Ron slid over into the warm patch of bed that Harry had left behind, and snuggled his face between Hermiones shoulder blades as she gathered the baby to her and settled her at her breast. Before he could doze off she spoke.
"I've missed that."
"Hmmmm?"
"The bond. The connection. Feeling you both. Knowing you both can feel me, too. That sense that I don't have to try and explain myself. Because you would already just know."
There was silence for a moment
"Bit of a surprise with the girls there, too, wasn't it? The dream."
"Yes. It certainly was."
"All that soul leaking about all over the place when you were pregnant, I suppose."
"When I was pregnant and we were all making love together, you mean."
"And that. Yeah." Ron squirmed a little. He didn't really want to think about that too much. "I mean, Charlie's never even been to Grimmauld Place, has she? Nor the Angel, that's for sure!"
"I felt her there. Miranda. When we did the ritual."
"Yeah?"
"It didn't feel wrong. I never thought about it again. Do you think we should... do something? "
Hermione felt Ron moving around behind her, stretching the sleep out of his limbs. He shuffled higher up the bed and tucked his head over the top of hers, slipping an arm around her waist, pressing his open hand to her stomach.
A few things started to sort themselves into place in Hermione's thoughts. The way that Harry had always had such an obvious bond with both girls. The way he would appear as Miranda started to get unsettled, asking if she was okay. The way he always seemed to know when Charlotte was looking for him.
"Have you noticed it before? The way they've got a bond?"
"Dunno really. Nice for Harry I s'pose."
His fingers brushed back and forth over the fabric of Hermione's night shirt. There didn't seem to be any intent to it. Just feeling the texture of the fabric and the way it wrinkled up against her skin. He cleared his throat quietly before mumblng, "Just proves more that he really is a part of this family."
The distant sounds of voices and clatter of dishes drifted up the stairs. It wasn't loud enough to cover the snuffles and slurps of the baby having her breakfast in the bed next to them.
"Do you? Miss it?" She didn't explain what she was referring to.
Ron nodded against her back
"Might have avoided some of this mess."
"I suppose we were so used to just knowing that we got a little... lazy."
"We need to try something else, then. Perhaps talking or something?"
His hand stroked more firmly along her stomach, and then down to cup her hip.
"So you're really feeling better, then?"
Hermione thought of the potion, constantly brewing on the work top in the kitchen. She still took her spoonful each day but was glad to know that it was half the strength it had been. "Much."
Fingers squeezed gently into the softness of her skin. "You look like you feel better. I'm glad."
Hermione could hear the deliberate gentleness in his tone. The hesitancy and caution at bringing up the thing that had so marred their last few months. She leant back, putting more of her weight against his chest in a silent thankyou.
"It's still ... there... and everything is so much more difficult than I imagined."
Ron made a little questioning noise.
"Two children. Two husbands..."
"Right."
"And I'm tired of hiding away and being frightened. Tired of doing nothing about it."
Ron's grip tightened a little on her hip.
"I don't want to hide anymore, Ron."
"OK."
His face pressed into her hair and fingers slid up over her waist, skimmed her breast and neck, before gathering up the curls around her face and flattening them down enough for him to reach over and kiss her neck. "OK," he repeated into her skin. Hermione pressed back, hooking her foot over his shin and feeling the answering pressure as he rolled forward. She knew that things wouldn't progress past the simple caress. The physical show of emotional support. Not while the baby lay awake, feeding and staring up at Hermione with wide eyes. Eyes that were becoming greener every day
Still it was soothing to lie here together, feeling comfortable and wanted. To feel his hands on her skin. To want him as well.
~*~
---[discussion where trio decide to go out more into the world.
to not hide. strategy for hermione's first excursion out.
first time they are all ready to go out- owl freaks baby out. trying to land on her.
all their friends know to send things to h,hr or r.
discover it's from a journalist. spell to take photo when it is received.
they all stay home.]---
~*~
Harry stood still. He looked about at the trees where he had Disapparated to, and tried to allow the calm of the afternoon seep into his mind and soothe his frustration.
His day had been filled with frustration. A lesson in futility from start to finish. Bloody red tape. Bloody Ministry departments and their mountains of bloody parchment.
Bloody journalists and their un-solicited owls.
It had always been annoying, dodging the unwanted attention of the press, but now they had started to target Charlie and the baby. And that was just Not On. Neither Harry nor Ron had realised how difficult it would be to fill out what should be simple paperwork, to block owls finding the girls, redirecting post to one of them. Ron was working all day, so Harry had trudged into Diagon Alley and along to the Ministry and then proceeded to queue for hours at a time, simply to be told he was in the wrong department. It hadn't helped that when he'd finally managed to find the correct forms to fill in, and the appropriate desk to hand them to, he hadn't been allowed to file the paperwork for Charlie. Or Hermione. Adding to his aggravation, the old clerk at the desk had raised an eyebrow and said with amusement, "You honestly haven't worked that out before now? The spell recognises paternity and matrimonial rights, son. Better let the real father come in and sort it out."
It shouldn't have mattered so much to him. It shouldn't, but it did. Because as much as they thought of themselves as a family, he had no paternal claim over Charlie. And no legal rights at all in regards to Hermione or Ron. If one of them were admitted to St Mungo's he'd need the other's express permission to visit.
Harry breathed in through his nose and blew the air out slowly.
There was already a chance that Little Charlie had sensed his upset. It explained so much about her intuiting his moods so accurately.She'd always just known the best time to clamber into his lap for a cuddle, or pull a ridiculous face to make him laugh.
And as potentially disturbing as the idea was - him having some sort of soul connection with her because of inadvertant sex magic with her mother while she was not yet born - Harry loved that it gave validity to the feeling he'd always had for her. That even though he wasn't actually her Father, they were part of each other. He wondered if Ron felt the same about Miranda. A twinge of guilt stung him when he thought of how threatened he'd felt over his daughter. She really was theirs.
He didn't want to make things worse by storming into the house with his temper still fizzling about. He could practically see sparks. Actually he could see sparks; shooting from his wand.
"Get a grip, Potter," he muttered to himself.
Harry concentrated on the 'edge' of his feelings. The background hum that he'd come to realise was his connection with the girls. Miranda was starting to wake up, partly due to his own spilling aggravation. He took some deep breaths and concentrated on feelings of affection and anticipation of seeing the girls. To try and help soothe her back to sleep.
Harry walked slowly down the lane until he came to the bend and could see the settled warmth of Bramley Lodge.
"Harry's home!"
He could hear Little Charlie's announcement ring through the house as he trudged up the gravel path towards the front door. Before he had a chance to reach out for the handle, the door was flung open and a little girl jumped up into his arms.
~*~
"Time for a pint?" Ron turned and grinned at Harry as they made their way - finally- out into the dreary, cold afternoon. Diagon Alley was not very busy; the Christmas rush not yet started. "We could sneak in to the Leaky and be back before everyone comes over."
He watched as Harry rolled his head from one side to the other, trying to release some of the tension that had been drawing his shoulders up tighter around his ears through the tedious afternoon spent finalising the Owl Redirections. "Hermione won't be too impressed," he muttered in reply. "She's already shirty at being left behind."
She really hadn't been happy that after coming to the long postponed decision to not stay home all the time, their errand was one for which she wasn't actually required. Ron was legally able to do all paperwork in her name. He was also concerned that the girls should not have to deal with any unpleasantness in public. Harry had conceded the fact, though Ron guessed that he was hoping for a chance to show their baby off to the world, to hold her in his arms and say 'Yes. I'm not ashamed of her. Of us," but it was only asking for trouble to be so conspicuous. They needed to start small. So Hermione had stayed home, under sufference, with the girls.
"Yeah. S'pose so. And Neville and the others will be over soon. We should just Floo from Wheezes'."
The pair walked past the pub entrance and continued down the Alley towards the bright purple shopfront. Ron enjoyed the feeling of Harry's shoulder bumping his a little as they walked. He would have liked to rest his arm around his mate's shoulder, run a hand down his back and soothed away some of the dark mood that hung around him. He considered reaching down and taking Harry's hand in his, but decided that there was no sense in tempting fate.
"That's Harry Potter!" a young voice hissed loudly -as though on cue - behind them as they walked past Flourish and Blotts. "I'm going to ask him to sign my Defense Book!"
Ron smirked as Harry rolled his eyes and then put on his 'polite face'. Their day had so far been without incident, and there were worse things to face than a young autograph hunter.
"No, you will not," an older voice insisted.
"Awwww, Mum. Why not?"
"Not while he is with his..."
"His what?"
"His... friend..."
The patient expression melted off Harry's face. For a moment he just looked blankly at Ron. Ron could feel his ears and cheeks heat up. There was no mistaking the sneer in the woman's tone.
Caught up in his own embarassment, Ron nearly missed the shift in Harry's manner as he turned to face the speakers.
"Mate," he whispered, fingertips touching Harry's back as he leaned in towards his shoulder. "Just leave it."
"Would you like my friend's autograph, too? He's a War Hero, you know. Ron Weasley."
Oh, Harry. Shut. Up.
Ron moved his hand from Harry's back around to his elbow. He tried to pull him away.
"I know who Mr. Weasley is," the woman said with a tight mouth.
"Then you'll know that he deserves your respect and gratitude."
"Harry, come on," muttered Ron, smiling apologetically at the young girl. She was looking, bewildered, from her mother to the two men.
Ron grasped Harry around the upper arm and dragged him away.
"Pleasure to meet you," he said over his shoulder, trying to drown out Harry's continuing bitter tirade.
"Chapter 35, Hogwarts- A History revised edition," he was shouting, "Look it up! I don't recognise you. I'm assuming you weren't There!"
Harry wrenched his arm free from Ron's grip and walked quickly ahead of him down the Alley.
"Harry!" Ron called after him. He tried to ignore the faces of the wizards and witches who turned towards the fracas. He ran a few steps to catch up, and spun Harry back to face him. "Calm down! She's just a stupid old cow. No need to--"
"It's not just this!" Harrry interrupted him, running a hand through his hair and letting out a strangled growl of irritation. "It's her. I upset her."
Ron frowned. The girl hadn't walked away with an autograph but she had a jolly good story to tell her friends at school. He really didn't think it was worth this outburst.
Harry closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. "Angel. I upset her. Or she's upsetting me." He made another frustrated sound and muttered, "I don't even know any more," and opened the door they were standing next to.
"Welcome to Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes," a cheery voice said in Ron's ear. He caught it just in time before it shut and slipped in behind Harry. "The only place to buy your--" Ron waved his hand, cutting short the automatic spiel.
He looked around the shop, going up on his toes to find the wild black hair he was searching for.
George caught his eye and tipped his head in the direction of a door shutting on the other side of the display. Ron nodded and made his way through the shoppers towards the entry to the flat upstairs. A rush of green flame reflected off the paintwork on the stairwell. He took the stairs two at a time and followed his mate into the fireplace.
~*~
The Floo rattled behind Hermione, and she turned just in time to see Harry tumble out. It wasn't a great surprise as she'd been busily trying to calm down a fractious baby for the past ten minutes. She jumped up to intercept him before he noticed the woman sitting across the kitchen table from them, tea cup clenched between white knuckled hands. Charlotte had been leaning up against her chair. She moved to stand beside her mother, hiding slightly behind her leg and holding on to the fabric of her skirt.
Harry raised his eyebrows at Hermione, narrowing his eyes at the same time. His lips were already pressed together in a straight line. He was obviously trying to control whatever was about to come out of his mouth, and Hermione thought, Good! Maybe this awareness of how he was linked to the children would be a good thing for his self control.
He brushed his hands down his legs and arms, flicking away the evidence of his journey through the fire, and then turned to face Ron who was stepping out of the fireplace. "Hermione has a visitor. Apparently."
Penny pushed her chair back and got to her feet. "I'll go, Hermione. Thankyou for the tea. I..." She swallowed as her eyes rested first on Charlotte, still half hidden at Hermione's side, and then Miranda, grumbling and wriggling in her arms, and turned and picked up her cloak that was folded on the chair next to her. "I won't bother you again. Thankyou... for listening." The edges of her cloak brushed against Ron as she walked past him towards the french doors opening out to the back garden. Hermione saw him clench his jaw, flinching with distaste at the contact. Her hand paused on the handle and she turned to face Harry and Ron. "I'm sorry. Really I am." No one spoke as they watched her take a few more paces and then turn, disappearing with a sharp pop that they could hear through the glass.
The silence that lingered over her departure was broken as Charlotte pushed away from Hermione's leg and threw herself at Harry. He stooped to pick her up, resting her in the crook of one arm. Miranda wriggled a little in Hermione's grip, stretching her hands out towards Harry. Hermione stepped up closer to him to allow him to ruffle his hand through her tuft of dark hair. "Hey there, Angel. You ok now?" The little girl grasped the sleeve of his cloak firmly in her fist and bah bah bah-ed very seriously at him before making a lunge at his glasses. Hermione stepped back, untangling the little fingers from Harry's arm and glanced at Ron.
He was standing with his arms folded, an expectant look on his face as he caught her eye.
"She's broken off all contact with Marietta."
"I couldn't condone it anymore," Penelope had stuttered out, standing awkwardly at the front door. "All I could see was your daughter's face. Percy's niece. So frightened. And Marietta wasn't sorry at all."
Hermione had moved to the side and invited her sister-in-law through into the kitchen with a nod of her head. Charlotte had abandoned her drawing the moment she saw her, gluing herself to her mother's side.
"I had no idea she would target the children."
It had been easier for Hermione to occupy her hands making a pot of tea, cutting slices of fruit cake and arranging them on a plate, than to meet Penny's eyes. She wanted to stay cold and cross. Not feel sympathy for this woman who had brought so much pain to their extended family.
"She wished us well." Hermione still felt conflicted. She had sat through too many uncomfortable afternoons at The Burrow, trying to shield Harry from her sister-in-law's thinly veiled insults, to forgive so quickly.
"I am lonely now. Percy was my family and now I have pushed away the people that he loved." Her long fingers had fiddled with her teaspoon, shifted her cup in its saucer, smoothed out invisible creases in the table cloth. "I thought that if Marietta lost her informant- if she had no more inside information - she couldn't write such hurtful pieces. It was naive of me to think she would focus elsewhere. She carries a real grudge. I didn't realise that cutting myself off as a source would compell her to become more aggressive rather than less."
Hermione hadn't been able to think of any reply. She had just sat quietly, finally allowing Penny to meet her eyes, and hoping that she saw enough of Hermione's own mixed feelings to understand. "I know i've acted very poorly. I am no Gryffindor, Hermione. Percy had forgiven his family. I didn't think I could do the same. But now I realise that I must. I was wrong to... My bitterness has done his memory no favours."
~*~
--[hermione tells them of conversation - penny disillusioned with marietta.
when she saw charlie's face. realised how bitter she was being.
how percy had managed to forgive his family.
it was incumbent on her to do so, too.
she knows marietta won't lose her job, but she no longer has her 'inside information'.
'i hope you will all be happy together.'
*she hadn't realised that cutting herself off as a source would compell marietta to get more aggressive and target the girls.]--
~*~
The unmistakable sound of a car making its way up the rough lane towards their house.
"Tourists?" questioned Ron with a shrug of his shoulders. There was nowhere for a car to turn in the alley. Instead of the back and forth of a three (or more- their front yard was quite small) point turn, the sound of wheels coming to a halt in the gravel. The engine switched off and Hermione ran after Charlotte to catch her before she opened the door to a complete stranger.
"It's Neville!" she squeaked. "Neville and Anna came in a car."
Ron and Harry raised eyebrows at each other and came out to see.
"He did so well!" Anna was saying. "I drove on the motorway, but he took over before we got to the village."
--[others arrive: george, luna, fred. angelina arrives separately with chn.
luna is starting to show. instead of pregnancy making her more vague she is more focused and 'busy'.
she follows hermione around asking her about progress with her research into the matrimony spell.
they discuss how it's necessary for other 'non conventional' couples etc needing the spell work and magical law to catch up with things.
others ask what they're talking about. she explains:]--
'I have actually been looking into it. How to make an adjustment to the matrimony spell. Ever since all this nonsense with the owls. In my notes from when Remus and I were investigating the erm... ritual. There was a reference to--"
"What ritual are we talking about?" asked Anna.
--Neville gets flustered, tries to explain.
**George: "What? more sex magic, huh?" He waggled his eyebrows dramatically at Ron.
Hermione: "Actually nothing like that. It seems that it will be quite a simple matter.
Due to the fact that our magic has merged to such an extent already, and that we have children together."
"that's a bit back to front isn't it?"
"morals of society not necessarily true to the nature of magic. these spells are extremely old.
long before they were overlaid with the insipid victorian-esque "morality" of the last few hundred years! since the witch hunts.
kept the suspicion of that era.
The spell will automatically change the girls' names to "Potter Weasley" - alphabetical order.
"How terribly Ravenclaw of it."
no mention at all of Granger, naturally.
"because you're a woman?"
"no. because i'm muggle born"
well, 'miranda granger potter weasley' is a bit of a mouthful for such a tiny person.
George snuffled his nose into Miranda's neck. 'Lot of trouble caused by such a tiny person, too, yeah?"
"George!" Hermione frowned.
Anna gasped. "That's all she needs! On top of everything. A bloody complex!"
--Looking at Luna who was sitting cross legged on one of the straight backed kitchen chairs. Belly rounding slightly.
doing something for charlie? plaiting her hair?
Hermione took Miranda back - she stretching arms out.
"So how is luna doing? how are YOU doing?"
"All this wedding talk doesn't mean you can start getting all soppy on me. i'm FINE. i'm great."
*unimpressed look*
"We're good Hermione." George's gaze softened as it rested ...
"Now she's stopped with all the vomiting. that was fun. i don't think. her idea was a good one.
Puking Pastilles anti dote. new packaging and we'll make a small fortune now. "
"and lee...?"
"aah! Hermione. i've already had Ron being all sensitive and touchy feely."
"you mean 'Emotionally competent'?"
"Whatever. Like I told my disturbingly concerned baby brother, and his tiresomely kind husband-to-be. I am happy for Lee. I am happy that he's found a charming, witty, non-ginger bit of arse to step out with. Yes he is still my best mate. Yes I miss him a bit since he moved out. No it's not the same since we're no longer living on top of each oth--" His facade of cheerfullness broke for the first time. He took a breath. "It wasn't ever going to be the same thing for us as for you lot." *moment of honesty* maybe since he knew she saw the drop of facade? "That was Luna. Her idea. Not mine."
she hugs him.
Miranda grasps at her drink. it breaks the moment.
"So," George said, grasping at the change of topic," you're looking good. Better."
~*~
--[hermione works out the spell.]--
~*~
mrs quizzical: my writing has changed a lot. there has been no explicit sex so far. but i feel a little eye rolly doing it poetically. but it might be too much to have an actual sex scene there.
mrs quizzical: not too much, but just out of place.
Maple Mahogany: it would be perfectly fine to include an opening A/N to that chapter or whatever just saying 'i've been writing this story for X years and my writing process has evolved so if X seems out of place, it's because I have matured/progressed in my comfort zone as a writer'
Maple Mahogany: simple and honest
mrs quizzical: that's actually not a bad idea
Maple Mahogany: and I think your story would be better served for you writing to your best and most inspired process
Maple Mahogany: rather than 'holding back'
mrs quizzical: ....
mrs quizzical: you just want a threesome, right?
Maple Mahogany: naturally
~*~
--[and then they all have sex.]--
~*~
mrs quizzical: i was thinking of like... hermione looking forward to getting home later, going over all the things that ron had been whispering in her ear the night before while he fucked her (keeping the language in keeping with the story) telling her what harry was doing, what harry wanted to do. so it's like. suggested and stuff, but still 'there'
Maple Mahogany: that sounds nice.
~*~
--[and then they (mostly) live happily ever after. (for now) ]--
~*~
mrs quizzical: anyway. for the ending.
mrs quizzical: so instead of having them all 'fixed' i just want to end it showing they are on their way to fixed. so maybe just heading out for their first dinner together in public or something - like you suggested i think?
mrs quizzical: and then she could keep imagining how things could be, now things are getting better. imagining living in that house for years, and the girls growing up etc
mrs quizzical: maybe finish with imagining the next day and her plans. and sort of saying how it was fine. it was good.
Maple Mahogany: I like it
mrs quizzical: so do i.
~~*~~
Epilogue>