Work Text:
“I'm sorry Mrs. Potter, we've run out of options. There's nothing else we can do.”
Hermione nodded stiffly, wanting more than anything to just get out of that sterile white room. She grasped Harry's hand tightly in hers as though he were the only thing anchoring her to her chair. She opened her mouth to speak but found herself uncharacteristically at a loss for words.
“Thank you for everything you've done Healer Finn, but I think my wife and I will take our leave now, we need some time to process things.”
“Of course, Mr. Potter.” The elderly man offered the couple a small, sympathetic smile as they stood up and made their way towards the door. Hermione barely registered the journey from the office to the couch at Grimmauld Place. It were as though she were in a daze, stunned by the magnitude of her own failure.
She had thought that if she done everything right, if she just read all of the books, drank all of the foul-tasting potions and kept up with her healer appointments, that it would happen eventually. She'd thought that if she just gave it her all the way she did with everything else, that she could make it work.
But she couldn't make it work. She had failed on the most fundamental level. Her body was literally designed to make children, and yet somehow she couldn't make it happen.
She was a failure. As a wife, as a lover, as a woman. And what about Harry. He would be such a wonderful father, and after everything he'd been through he deserved to be one.
“Hermione?” She snapped her eyes opened at the sound of his gentle voice, surprised to find that her cheeks were wet.
“Hmm?” It was hardly a reply, but it was all she could muster.
“Hermione, look at me.”
She flicked her brown eyes upwards to meet his green ones. They were red-rimmed, as though he'd been crying too. Why hadn't she heard him?
“I know what you're thinking, but this is not your fault. You're not broken. You're not a failure. You're my wife. My beautiful, brilliant, strong wife.”
She couldn't quite bring herself to smile, but felt a rush of fondness for the man sat before her. He could always tell what she was thinking.
“Thank you for saying that Harry.” Her voice felt raw and scratchy, as though she hadn't spoken in a long time. Maybe she hadn't. She honestly didn't know.
“I'm not just saying it to make you feel better Hermione. That would just be stupid. I don't think either of us are going to feel better for a good while yet.” His voice cracked on the last word, and Hermione winced. Guilt slashed and stabbed at her like a thousand tiny knives in her gut.
He cleared his throat, ready to continue. “I'm saying it because it's true. Once, you knew that. And you'll know it again. This isn't the end of us. As long as I have you and you have me, we can get through anything.” He took her hand in his, carefully stroking his thumb over the back of it.
“We still have so many adventures to take, you and I. Maybe they involve kids, maybe they don't. Either way, they're going to be big, and special, and important. They'll be perfect because they'll be with you.”
Overwhelmed with love, and grief, and bitter heartache, she sobbed as she pulled him towards her. She buried her head in his chest, sobbing as he held her. She wasn't sure when she would feel okay again, but she was so grateful to have her best friend beside her while she got there.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
“I can't believe we actually did it.” She smiled, a full-toothed grin that made Harry's chest swell with affection. It had taken them years, five long years, but they had finally made it.
He took in the scene before him with a sigh of contentment. When he'd first suggested adoption to Hermione, he'd never dreamed that it would turn into this. In typical Hermione fashion though, she'd taken the idea and turned it into something far better than he ever could've imagined.
“Mr. Potter, are you sure that we each get to have a room all to ourselves.” The girl, around seven years of age, stood nervously twirling a lock of blonde hair as she looked uncertainly at the large manor house.
Harry laughed. “Yes, Emily. Now go on ahead and pick one, before all the best ones are gone.” She nodded excitedly and tore off at full speed towards her new home. It was a beautiful building, all light and airy with ivy vines climbing towards the rooftop. It was surrounded by lush green fields and there was even an orchard out back. His favourite part though, was the large hand painted sign over the doorway which read 'The Marauders' Den.' Teddy had picked out the name, and had helped Luna with the artwork, and it was very special to Harry.
“Only you could jump from adoption to orphanage in the space of one conversation.” He teased lightly, causing his wife to blush.
“Yes, well. There were just so many children who needed a home after the war. How could you expect me to choose just one.”
He nodded at that. “That's true. And it's not as though we can't afford it.”
“Exactly!” she exclaimed, still more than a bit excited by the sight of so many children running around the garden. “We have the money, the time, and more than enough love to go around.”
He smiled. It done his heart good, knowing that, unlike him, these children would be cherished. They would never have to feel alone.
“I was right.” He smiled, wrapping his arms around her from behind as they watched their new family get to know one another.
“About what?” she asked, confused.
“Making a life with you was always going to be my greatest adventure.”