Chapter Text
Harry entered his home stressed, afraid, and angry at Robards. He sighed irritably, hanging his Auror robes recklessly on the perch close to the door, and walked towards the sitting room in search of his wife. Even though they had spent every Christmas at the Weasley’s ever since the war ended and the bridge between them and Ron was officially mended, Hermione still liked to decorate the house to the full extent. The living room was an explosion of colors, but they all worked together in some ways. The tree in the corner was completely full of ribbons, ornaments, and the strings of white lights
Hermione was sitting on the sofa, murmuring to herself as she gift-wrapped a cardboard box on her lap. There were more boxes strewn on the ground close to her, some of them already wrapped and some of them bare. He walked forwards, smiling at her when her gaze found his, and sighing heavily as he dropped on the sofa right next to her.
“What’s wrong?” She asked, leaving the box she was holding on the ground.
Harry shrugged. “What makes you think something is wrong?”
“We’ve been friends for over a decade, dating for five of those, and been married for three,” Hermione answered, raising an eyebrow at him as she smirked. “You’d be wrong to think I can’t distinguish your sighs and expressions from each other. What’s wrong?”
The wizard was quiet, avoiding her eyes and instead turning to look at the ceiling, thinking back to the conversation he’d just had moments before, inside his superior’s office. After a long, tense moment, he sighed again, and turned to look at her as he answered.
“Robards wants to send me into field work,” Harry admitted, his tone quiet. “He told me he’ll sent me on an undercover mission next week, six weeks out in Germany with minimum contact from Britain. He also told me he’s planning on giving me my own team to work especially hard missions. He says I’m wasting myself at my desk while my…talents are better suited for the field. He said the Aurors could really use me, and that I could help prevent serious injuries and even deaths after I start going on missions with them.”
Hermione’s face went through a series of emotions: shock, worry, anger, and indignation. As soon as he finished speaking, she left her seat and started to pace in front of the sofa, her eyebrows furrowed and her breathing growing shallower, a clear sign of her anger.
“How dare he?!” She exclaimed, right before he could say anything. “You asked him to keep you on desk work and he agreed! You specifically told him you wanted nothing to do with field work! He has no right to do this! And then he goes and tries to manipulate by blaming his Aurors injuries on you?!”
“Hmm, I told him I’d consider running a specialized team, without my involvement on their field assignments, but that everything else was out of the question.” He stated. “He didn’t take that well. Suspended me for the next two weeks under the excuse of revising my status in the Department, and if it’s still relevant.”
“He what?!” Hermione gasped, stopping her pacing and looking at him with disbelief that turned into seething anger.
Harry sighed again, rubbing his face. “I…I told him I was quitting.”
His quiet admission made Hermione drop her anger immediately as she sat next to him again reaching out a hand to pass through his unruly locks.
“Harry…”
“I decided it,” He stated, leaning into her hand. “It—it was fine at the beginning, this job, but it’s become more a burden. I was already thinking of quitting before Robards tried this, so it wasn’t a difficult decision.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Her voice wasn’t accusatory or angry; there was genuine curiosity on it, along with a very slight undertone of worry.
“I didn’t want to disappoint you,” Harry answered, smiling bitterly at her. “It’s an important job, and I was doing so much good…”
Hermione shook her head, smiling at him with shiny eyes. “Between both of us? I never quite liked the fact that you became an Auror, but I felt it wasn’t my place to question you about it. It was your life, your career.”
“Well, I think you’re going to like my next job.”
“You already have one?” She asked, surprised. “You’ve been unemployed for about an hour!”
“Three hours, actually, I had to reassign and close several cases,” He answered, smiling at her. “But my decision seemed to have spread pretty quickly, and I got a very interesting letter.”
“Just tell me,”
Harry grinned, pointing at himself. “You’re looking at the new Defense Professor at Hogwarts.”
Hermione gasped softly, staring silently at him before a grin split her face. She hugged him quickly, laughing, before leaning back.
“You’re not kidding, are you?”
“About school? Never, not with you.”
“You’re a professor!” She exclaimed, her face the picture of happiness, before she left her seat, rummaging through the already wrapped gifts. She found a small box, bringing it back with her and thrusting it into his hands.
“I was going to give you this at Christmas, but this news, I think, deserve a gift.”
“I am capable of waiting to open gifts, you know?”
“Yes, but I’m not capable of waiting until the 25th. It’s…it’s something big.”
Her voice was still excited, but it had gotten quieter as she reached the end of her sentence. Harry raised an eyebrow, wishing to wonder about her apparent hesitation, but her eyes hadn’t left the package on his hands. He decided to open it quickly, his mind running a mile a minute as he wondered what kind of gift would have his wife so nervous.
When he tore the wrapping and opened the box, he found a pair of Christmas fake reindeer antlers. They were red, made of soft fabric and with golden highlights along the edges of them. He took the pair out, inspecting them and raising an eyebrow at the witch.
Before he could say anything, Hermione cleared her throat and nodded at the box. “You missed one.”
Harry looked back down, finding another set of antlers, this one significantly smaller than the other two. He frowned, looking at it for a long moment before turning towards his wife.
“I don’t think Crookshanks will appreciate dressing up for a picture,” He said, smirking in a teasing way. “You know how much of a grump he is.”
“I bought it for our baby.”
Harry choked, dropping the antlers. “Wh-what?”
Hermione nodded, smiling nervously. “That’s why I asked for today off. I went to Saint Mungo’s and they confirmed it. I’m…I’m pregnant.”
The wizard froze, blowing out a breath and grasping at the antlers again. It was a long, quiet moment before he started to laugh in disbelief, grinning and shuffling closer to her as he gripped the antlers.
“I don’t think our kid would like having these on their head, though,” Harry said, his voice quivering slightly. “Maybe we can buy them a Santa hat instead.”
“They were out of those when I went shopping for these, if you believe that,” Hermione answered, leaning against him.
“We’ll have to go back, then,” He answered, his grin growing. “I…this is the best gift, Hermione. Thank you.”