Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Part One

James Potter was drunk. No — he wasn't drunk. He was so far past drunk he might as well have been in another reality. But if you asked James, he felt fine — fantastic, even.

"Absolutely, bloody, smashin'!" he shouted to the barkeep that was watching him in vague amusement as he cleaned a scotch glass. "I could - I could stand — like this," James stumbled off his stool and wobbled, "and do this —" he touched a finger to his nose, "and this." He raised his right hand and foot and fought to keep his balance.

The barkeep nodded indulgently. James pointed at the man and laughed like they were sharing a spectacular joke. They were not. Unless the joke happened to be James himself, in which case they certainly were.

An indelicate snort came from further down the bar and caught the drunken wizard's attention. The pretty, curly-haired girl was rolling her eyes at him.

"Oi! 'm havin' a conversation here." He gestured wildly between himself and the barkeep.

"Loud enough for the whole bar to hear!" she scoffed just as loudly.

James gasped dramatically. "How dare you? I am entertainment. What would these fine folks do without me?" He gestured to the bar at large, a rather rundown muggle establishment with only the regular barflies, save the two youthful drunks now talking — loudly.

"Drink in peace!" someone shouted from the back.

James held a hand to his heart. "Philip! Don't break my heart."

'Philip' who wasn't actually named 'Philip' at all, shook his head and grumbled something into his pint about 'pretty boys needing leashes.'

"See," the pretty one with the brown eyes that James found to be exceedingly distracting shouted with glee, "now shut up and let some of us get back to our wallowing at the bottom of a glass."

'Philip' raised his beer. "Cheers!"

James shot the man a glare and hissed, "Traitor."

He turned his attention back to the pretty girl. She was clearly alone and not looking for a night on the town in her jeans and giant jumper. James sidled up to her, his tall pint sloshed onto the bar as he did so.

"I didn't realize there was someone else wallowing at the bottom of the glass with me."

She narrowed her eyes at him. The flecks of gold in her eyes glittered like firewhiskey. "I'm not." She lifted her nose and sniffed imperiously. "I'm at the bottom of my own glass."

James leaned forward and in a startlingly sober moment, asked, "Care to share?"

She hesitated then quickly shook her head. "Thank you," she added as a quiet afterthought.

James shrugged, a little disappointed and took a sip of his beer. He glanced at her. "I'm James," he introduced abruptly.

"Hermione," and then she winced. Her whiskey eyes flicked back up to him and her head cocked to the side. She leaned closer. "I know you."

James raised his eyebrows. "Unlikely." This was a muggle establishment, after all.

Hermione pursed her lips, her finger tapped against the plump bottom lip. James swallowed. "It's on the tip of my tongue." As if to prove the point, she stuck out her little pink tongue and touched her top lip.

Merlin's beard, James thought, he wanted to be on the tip of her tongue. He blinked and abruptly said. "Chips," he announced and jumped to his feet. He nearly stumbled and slammed a hand down on the bar to steady himself.

Hermione shook herself from where her drunken mind was trying to find answers. She raised an eyebrow at him inquiringly.

"Let's get chips," James insisted. He took a long gulp of his pint and raised his eyebrows at Hermione. "I know a place."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. She didn't know him, but somewhere at the back of her mind she knew she did and she knew she trusted him. Finally, she nodded slowly. "I like chips."

James smiled broadly and Hermione's cheeks, already flushed prink from the alcohol, darkened further. "Brilliant!" He threw a wad of muggle bills onto the counter, more than enough to cover each of their tabs and grabbed the young woman's hand.

Hermione allowed herself to be dragged out into the hot summer air by the charismatic man, safe in the knowledge that even drunk, she could take him out with her wand if need be. But she didn't think it'd be necessary. She knew James. How did she know James?

It didn't matter.

She looped her arm through James' and they stumbled down the road.

"Are we heading in the right direction?" she slurred. The world spun as she looked around. Fresh snow covered the street. They huddled together for warmth.

"I dunno. Maybe?"

Hermione snorted out a laugh.

This was probably a bad idea. No, it was definitely a bad idea, which was probably why Hermione had agreed to it. Hermione was famous for making bad decisions when she was drunk. Alcohol didn't lower her inhibitions, it completely shattered them. She was also prone to forgetting important pieces of information. James was definitely an important piece of information, which she thought might be connected to a larger piece of important information.

The young witch had a sneaking suspicion that the information might have been exactly what she'd been drinking to forget, which was undoubtedly why she didn't remember. Hermione was very good at nearly everything she did, even if that was just getting pissed enough to not remember her own name.

James and Hermione giggled as they swayed.

"Oh!" he gasped loudly. He pointed to a chip place. "I said I knew a place!"

"Is this that place?"

"I don't think so." He shrugged. "Come on!" He pulled on her arm in his and they moved towards the 24hr chip shop. The scent of fish and chips greeted them and both of them moaned loudly as they stumbled into the shop.

There were several other, equally drunk, patrons sitting around eating. James and Hermione made a beeline for the counter. Several minutes of squabbling later and a small wrestle on who was going to pay, the two exited the shop with warm fish and chips in hand and in search of a place to eat.

"Why aren't we eating in the shop?" Hermione asked as she stole one of James' chips.

"Oi!" He brought his food close to his chest and glared. Hermione stuck her tongue out at him. "It's not pretty. I want food and a view."

She shook her head. "So picky."

"You're just upset that I've got good taste."

"Said the bloke that was drinking beer."

"What's wrong with beer?"

Hermione sniffed and threw her head back dramatically as she sashayed. "Peasants," was her only response and James laughed loudly. "How 'bout this?" she gestured to a snow-covered park bench by Big Ben.

James shrugged.

They dusted off the snow and sat down on the cold, hardwood slats. Both shivered. James discreetly stuck a hand in his pocket and a whispered spell muffled by a cough later, they were both blanketed under a warming charm. Hermione froze. She turned to him, her whiskey eyes wide and startled.

"You're a wizard!" she whispered loud enough that it was definitely not a whisper.

James startled. He blinked widely. "Are you a witch?" She nodded quickly. James smiled brightly. "Brilliant!" He grabbed her hand a second later and they were sitting high up in the air before the clock face of Big Ben.

"Oh my god!" Hermione hollered. She wobbled precariously and James pulled her back before she fell. Hermione closed her eyes, her entire body tense. "I'm going to die."

James laughed. "Nah," he popped a chip in his mouth and explained, "my friends and I come up here all the time. Got'a load of protection wards about this place. You can't fall."

Hermione peeked an eye open at him. "I don't believe you."

He raised an eyebrow as if sensing a dare. Without another word, James leapt off the ledge. Hermione screamed but the stupidly drunk wizard didn't go anywhere. He stood before her on some sort of invisible floor. He shrugged and smiled happily.

Hermione swallowed before she was sick all over his shoes. "Please sit down." She slowly lowered herself down on the ledge of the clock face.

James laughed and plopped back down beside her. He ate another chip and smiled charmingly. It eased the young witch's fears and she forced herself to eat a chip of her own. "Not a fan of heights?"

"Understatement of the century," she grumbled.

James pouted. "You're missin' out. Nothin' like flying up real high on a broom."

Hermione grimaced and ate another chip. "I can do without, thanks."

"So, you've never ridden a broom?"

"I have," she informed him, thinking about her ride with Kingsley Shaklebolt when they'd gone to retrieve Harry after he'd turned seventeen. The thought of Harry made her sigh nostalgically. She turned to the wizard beside her. Merlin, he looked a lot like Harry. There it was again, some sort of knowledge just on the tip of her tongue. "I also rode a thestral once," she continued suddenly.

James' eyes widened. "You can see them?"

She snorted and nearly fell forward. James caught her elbow. "Not even in the slightest." She paused. "Well… suppose I could now."

They both fell silent.

"War is rubbish," James declared. Hermione nodded sadly. They ate their fish and chips in sullen sadness. The sun was just cresting over the horizon. "What time is it?" James asked suddenly. He pulled out a pocket watch that Hermione snorted at. "Oi. This is an heirloom."

Hermione hummed and raised an eyebrow mockingly.

"Merlin, it's eight in the morning."

Hermione's eyes widened.

James looked up at the sunrise, completely astounded. "I'm still drunk." She snorted. He looked down with a pout. "Guess Christmas is one day closer now." He didn't sound enthusiastic.

"Ugh," Hermione shook her head.

James raised an eyebrow at her. "Bet I have a better reason for being upset about the upcoming holidays than you do."

She narrowed her eyes on him and stuck her nose in the air. "You're on."

He swung his head around to her. "I was supposed to be getting married."

Hermione pouted. "Me too."

James wrapped his arm around her shoulders and tugged her into his side. "Knew there was a reason I liked you." Hermione sighed and leaned her head against his shoulder. "What happened?"

"He didn't love me," she whispered and gave a sad little shrug. "Strung me along until he found something better."

"Arse."

"Yeah… you?"

"Same story, different tune. She never stopped loving her best friend who just so happens to be a terrible human being and treats her like dirt." He paused. "I'm not bitter."

"I was about to say you don't sound it at all." He nodded and turned his face towards her curls. She smelled like lavender. "I miss this," she whispered. "It's nice."

James raised his eyebrows. "I miss sex."

Hermione snorted a laugh. "Sex is nice."

"Nice?" James choked. "Sex isn't nice." Hermione leaned back and wrinkled her nose at him. "Sex is toe-curling, mind-melting, and hot. It's sweaty and tingling and breathtaking."

Hermione clenched her thighs together at his impassioned words. She took a steadying breath and hoped he didn't notice. His hazel eyes were tracing the curve of her lips.

"And you called it 'nice,'" he finished in a whisper.

"It was," she whispered back.

James raised his hand and threaded his fingers through her curls. "You've been missing out." And then they were kissing. James wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. His tongue pushed past her lips and Hermione moaned. She leaned into him. Her leg curled over his knee and her fingers fisted into his jacket. James pulled back. Hermione panted. "Mine or yours?"

She nodded quickly. "Yours."

"Deep breath."

A moment later, they had apparated away.

Hermione felt a bit like death rolled over. Her head was pounding, her body ached. She tried to swallow but her mouth was dry and her tongue felt swollen. Merlin's beard, she'd gotten well and truly messed up the night before. Why had she done that? Why would anyone do this to themselves?

She rubbed her eyes as she stretched her aching limbs. Her sheets were silky smooth, a quality she knew immediately that she would never spend the money on. A hand moved against her stomach. Hermione froze. She slowly lowered both her hands to make sure both were accounted for. The fingers on her lower stomach smoothed against her skin. Hermione's heart raced. She took a deep, slightly panicked, breath and turned to her right.

Messy black hair and a scruffy square jaw could be spotted above the silky red bed sheets. Slowly, the wild-haired witch raised herself up on one elbow. She couldn't help feeling mildly disturbed. She hesitantly reached across the bed and pushed the dark curls back. No scar.

Hermione released a breath of relief. Thank Merlin. Logically, she knew that it wasn't Harry. Harry had straight hair and smaller lips and his nose was different but… Merlin, he looked a lot like Harry. But of course, it could never be Harry. Harry was… Harry was gone.

Everything was gone.

Hermione's eyes teared and she took a deep breath. Clothes first, mental breakdown second. With that ingenious plan in mind, she slipped from beneath the covers. The man's fingers fell away and dropped to the mattress. A shiver passed over her.

She stood and nearly dropped back to the bed with a groan. Everything hurt. She glanced down the length of her body and blushed madly at the dark hickeys on her skin. Merlin, she looked like she'd been ravished.

Flashes of - earlier that morning - raced through her mind. Him bending her over the edge of the bed. Crying out as he made her come for the fifth time. She vaguely recalled blood at one point and turned to see the scratches she'd left along his back still bright and tender looking.

Hermione had to bite her lip to hold back a smile. 'Wow' didn't begin to cover it. Ron had never made her come even twice in one night. Her December Lover had been very generous. Hermione bit back her giggle and began her search for her knickers. Earth-shattering sex or not, she needed to get home. Being here when he woke up would add more complications than had already been created from her drunken stupidity.

Hermione managed to collect and don all of her clothes bar her jacket and runners. She hoped they were by the door. The second Hermione left the safety of the bedroom, her heart sank into her stomach.

Standing in the kitchen directly across from James' bedroom was Remus Lupin. He was smirking as he leaned back against the kitchen bar, a cup of tea in hand. "Good morning," he greeted with a devious twinkle in his eye.

Sirius looked over from the stovetop and winked at her. "Good evening actually. Though I heard it was a very good morning for you. Very good. Your sweet moans are going in my spank bank, sweetheart."

Hermione's face was so hot, she thought she might burst into flames.

Remus nodded to the coffee table in front of her. "Your jacket and shoes, m'lady."

She looked down and sure enough, her jacket had been neatly folded and placed on the wood surface. Just above it were her runners. Hermione picked them up and clutched them to her chest. "Thank you," she murmured and hurried towards the door.

"No, thank you," Sirius hollered in her direction. "And please, come again soon!"

The door slammed shut behind her. The sound of Sirius' laughter followed her all the way home, that and the confirmation that she had just spent the entire night having wild sex with James Potter.

"Oh, dear, what do we have here?" Sirius quipped with exaggeration.

James groaned with his eyes still closed. He stumbled past the couch and into the kitchen.

Remus took pity on him and handed him a cup of coffee. "You look like shit, mate."

James grunted in response.

Sirius and Remus shared an amused smile. "So," the former drawled, "guess this means you're over Lily."

James' entire body tensed. His eyes shot wide open. The golden flecks in his hazel eyes nearly glowed as his mind raced with images of last night. Brown doe eyes and pretty little freckles across a pert nose. A tinkling laugh and the taste of strawberries. Breathless moans, sweat-slicked skin, cries of delight, and - oh, Merlin. Spanking.

James flushed red. He remembered holding her down with her wrists trapped in his hands. Her cries of pleasure as he fucked her so hard she screamed. Merlin's balls, no wonder his body ached. Another thought occurred to him and his heart constricted. His mother will kill him if she finds out.

James winced and covered his face with a hand. "Please don't tell mum."

Sirius snorted. "Got a bit rough with her?" he nodded knowingly at his friend.

"I don't want to talk about it." James sank down into the stool at the breakfast bar and Sirius placed a plate piled high with food in front of him. He grimaced but picked up his fork regardless.

"From the sounds of it," Remus put in, obvious amusement in his voice, "it was quite the event to talk about."

"Please shut up."

Both of his friends snickered.

Sirius took a long drink of his butterbeer. "Evan's is going to have kittens."

James sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth. He dropped his fork. "Fuck. Lily!"

Sirius rolled his eyes. "She didn't want you back anyway, mate."

"Not the point," he whined. "We should have been celebrating our first Christmas as a married couple in a few weeks and I-" He gestured where words failed him.

"Had the best shag of your life with a little sex kitten?" Sirius finished. James groaned into his coffee. "Who was she, anyway? Because let me tell you, the sounds that the witch was making were so bloody tempting I nearly joined."

Remus laughed loudly.

"Well?" Sirius pressed.

Hermione, James thought. Her name was Hermione. She smelled like lavender and had the prettiest, wildest hair he'd ever seen. She had a soft smile and a warm gaze that made him feel like he could move mountains.

"Hermione." Without another word, he turned back to his food.

Hermione kept her hood firmly over her head. Her curls were pulled back into a plait to keep from peaking through. She passed down the aisle of the apothecary and picked out the best herbs she could find. She was low on a number of things but mostly she needed to restock her healing potions.

Hermione had come down with some sort of sickness. It had only started about a week ago, but every day she was feeling worse than the day before. She wasn't sure what it was, but desperately hoped it wasn't something to do with the accidental time travel.

Honestly, she never should have taken that internship with the Department of Mysteries. Harry had said - he had said - that she was bound to find trouble. And here she had thought trouble only ever found Harry Potter.

Hermione's eyes fell shut in a moment of sadness. Harry. She missed him every day. Maybe her illness was heartbreak. Everyone was either gone or… young. There was a silver lining, of course. Sirius, Remus, Tonks, Fred, Moody, and even Dumbledore. All of them and so many more were still alive.

But Harry wasn't. He would never be born.

She didn't remember much from her night with James, but she remembered enough to know that he and Lily weren't together. Maybe they had broken up originally? Maybe Lily was pregnant and they were back together and married now? One could only hope. It was March now, Lily would probably be showing by this point.

Harry. Hermione really hoped her best friend would be born.

She shook herself from her melancholy and headed down the aisle with readymade potions. She grabbed anything that would make her dizziness, nausea, and incredible headache go away. Maybe a sledgehammer to the side of her head would work. Hermione paid for her things and tucked them away into her beaded purse.

The little purse had saved her when she'd accidentally ended up in 1979. There wasn't much in it, but enough to help her get started in her new time. The only true benefit of working in the Department of Mysteries just before the accident was that it had allowed her to research time travel before it happened. This is why she knew that there was absolutely no way back.

She was stuck here.

Just bloody great.

Hermione ducked out of the apothecary, head down, and barged past the two men in her path.

"Oi!" a voice called. She kept moving. James glared at the cloaked figure's back. He turned and kept walking. "Bloody people."

"Alright, alright," Sirius placated. "No changing the topic. You're still looking for this witch?"

James shrugged off his annoyance and sighed. "Yeah, I can't find any trace of her. No one knows her, no one recognizes her. I even asked Tom, I mean… everyone passes through the Leaky at some point."

"And?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Nothing."

"Damn." Sirius shrugged. "Well, guess that's that."

"What? What're you talking about?" They came to a stop by Flourish and Blotts where they would wait for Remus.

Sirius raised his eyebrows. "You're not going to keep on this witch." James blinked. Sirius leaned forward. "Are you?"

The Potter heir shuffled his feet and ran a hand through his messy curls. "Why not?"

"It's February! Nearly March. You can't honestly still be hung up about a one night stand from three months ago," Sirius exclaimed incredulously.

James huffed. "Well, what if I am? There's just. I want to just see her. Talk to her. I don't do one night stands so… so there must have been something about her. There is something about her." He stared off into the distance, thinking about the glint in her eyes as she'd teased him in the pub. "I need to find her."

Sirius rolled his eyes and groaned loudly. "Why're you such a bloody hopeless romantic? Emphasis on 'hopeless.'" James glared and decided that he didn't need to answer. Sirius stepped closer and lowered his voice. "Look, I get you're upset about Lily."

James groaned this time. "This isn't about Lily!"

"But what she's doing," he continued as if James hadn't spoken, "has nothing to do with you. Obsessing over this witch isn't going to help you get over Lily."

"I don't give a shit about Lily," James hissed. It was the most vicious tone he'd ever taken when using the woman's name and Sirius actually stilled when he heard it. "I don't care. I know she loved me, she just didn't love me enough. That hurts, yeah, and I'm sure it'll always hurt a bit but… She's not what this is about."

"Then what is it about this bird?"

"I don't know. But I need to find her." He grasped his friend's shoulders. "Please help me. Please."

Sirius sighed and rolled his eyes. "You're such a pansy."

James grinned broadly. "I love you."

"Shut up."

He pulled Sirius in. "Come here, lover." Sirius laughed but accepted the hug. And that's how Remus found them.

"I always knew you two would end up together."

James and Sirius laughed. The latter threw out his arm and cried, "Join us, Moony baby. Be our third." Remus shook his head. He sighed and stepped forward, allowing the two others to drag him into the hug.

"Alright, alright," he pulled back a moment later. "That's enough." He nodded to the side and the three stepped away from the entrance of the bookstore. "I saw Frank today."

Both Sirius and James' heads shot up. "Oh?"

Remus looked around before stepping closer and lowering his voice. "Alice got rid of the baby."

Both of his friends looked thunderstruck. "She what?" Sirius spluttered.

James shook his head. "How? That's not possible, not with magical babies."

Remus sighed and explained, "They went to some place in France. It's a fairly new procedure and there can be side effects." Remus paused and looked around again. "She can't have kids now."

James sucked in a breath. He shook his head. "Poor Allie."

"She hasn't gotten out of bed for weeks."

Sirius crossed his arms, upset and uncomfortable. "How's Frank doing?"

"He claimed to be fine but he looked a wreck."

"Well, it's no bloody wonder." They were silent for a long moment. Finally, Sirius whispered, "Does Dumbledore know?"

Remus and James were silent. If he didn't, he would learn soon. None of them wanted to be there when Dumbledore found out. The old Headmaster had been disturbingly optimistic when he found out about the prophecy. When Frank and Alice had announced her pregnancy, he had been ecstatic. Someone who would solve all their problems - a baby.

"Well," Sirius said at length, "I'm skipping the next Order meeting. Who's with me?"

Chapter Text

Part Two

Hermione gripped the edge of her table. The potion bubbling before her smelled like sulphur and pigs spleen. She was not going to be sick. She was not going to be sick. The room was spinning. Her entire body shook, her forehead was slick with sweat.

It didn't matter what potions she took, she wasn't getting better. She couldn't take it anymore. Hermione sluggishly waved her wand and vanished her potion. She stumbled to her feet and raised her hands to save her balance. Oh, Merlin, she should have just taken the risk and gone to a healer sooner.

Once Hermione thought she wouldn't vomit, she turned on the spot. She fell to the floor of St. Mungo's emergency room. She groaned and leaned her feverish forehead against the cool tile. Hands touched her arms and then she was being pulled up. Hermione heard people talking over her and possibly to her, but the words sounded warbled. She blinked tiredly once, twice.

And everything went black.

When Hermione awoke again, she felt better than she had in months. She wasn't tired, feverish, or sick to her stomach. More importantly, there wasn't a pressing need for that sledgehammer anymore. She took a long, deep breath, and sighed.

It had been stupid of her to put off going to St. Mungo's, but she had been worried. She had no papers or medical records in the past. It had taken her the past four months to properly forge the documents and then work up enough money selling potions by mail to be able to afford the cost to get them placed in the hospital by unsavoury means.

She should have gone the moment it was all finished. But she hadn't wanted to risk going too soon after the documents had been placed. If someone, by chance, noticed their sudden appearance and then she showed up? She hadn't thought it worth it.

Now, she could see the error of her ways. What was the point of extreme caution if she ended up dead anyway?

Hermione opened her eyes and looked around. She found herself in a pink and blue room. A private room, she noted. There was a pitcher of water to the side and her wand. Hermione first picked up her wand and then poured herself a glass of water.

She was halfway through her second glass of water when the door opened. An older woman with a square face and pale white hair stepped into the hospital room. She nodded once when she saw Hermione was up. "I'm glad to see you're awake. Just give me a moment." She turned to the door and waved her wand intricately.

Hermione eyed the witch curiously. She was putting upwards of some kind, but not for privacy. Hermione didn't know too much about the intricacies of healing, just the basics, and was lost as to what the older witch was doing.

The healer turned around and smiled in a stern but friendly way that reminded Hermione of Professor McGonagall. "Now," she pulled up a chair next to Hermione's bed. "my name is Healer Mia. Can you tell me what your name is and perhaps what you remember?"

"Hermione," she quickly informed. "Hermione Granger." Healer Mia wrote her name down on a little clipboard in her hands. "I was at home and not feeling well. I apparated here and then I passed out."

"What's the date?"

"The third of April, 1980."

"The fourth, actually, but I can forgive you since you've been asleep for 14 hours." She pursed her lips slightly as her quill flew across the parchment. Definitely, Professor McGonagall, Hermione thought fondly. Stern but kind. "When did you start feeling ill?"

"A… a few weeks ago." She shrugged. "I didn't think anything of it at the time."

Healer Mia crossed her legs. She set her clipboard down and settled her hands on it. She raised an eyebrow at the younger witch.

Hermione resisted the urge to fidget. Healer Mia didn't say anything. Hermione sighed. "A few months," she admitted. Healer Mia nodded and lifted her clipboard back up. How did she know? "I really didn't think it was a big deal," Hermione defended. "I mean, I was taking potions and they helped somewhat." Healer Mia raised her eyebrow again. Hermione bit her bottom lip and looked away.

Healer Mia sighed. "Miss. Granger, if I may be so bold, but you… you are a muggle-born, correct?" Her eyes flickered briefly to Hermione's right forearm where the word mudblood stood out stark red as if freshly carved into her skin.

Hermione pulled her arm into her body. "I am," she murmured. She was all too aware of the current political climate. The war was alive and well in 1980. Hermione probably would have claimed she was half-blood if it weren't for the scar on her arm.

"It's not a problem. I hold no ill will to muggle-borns. However, as I'm sure you've noticed, there is a rather large disparity in knowledge between those born into the magical world and those who are not." Hermione slowly nodded. "Despite my best efforts, the wizarding world is still living in the past. Few seem to understand the importance of teaching young girls about the dangers of unprotected sex."

Hermione's face went bright red. "I beg your pardon?"

"You're pregnant," the older witch explained.

Hermione's eyes widened. "No, I'm not."

"You are."

Hermione swallowed audibly. "I can't be pregnant. The last time I had sex was - was…"

"Five months ago," Healer Mia confirmed with that same brisk tone of voice. Hermione looked down at her flat stomach. She looked back up at Healer Mia and raised her eyebrows. The healer shook her head. "Magical pregnancy is incredible and it can be very dangerous too."

"Dangerous?"

"The mixing of both the father's and mother's magic is a very delicate process. It requires not only the initial conception, but continued exposure to both magical signatures. Without this exposure, the fetus can't grow the way it normally would."

Hermione's hands were shaking. Healer Mia took the glass from her hands and placed it on the side table. She leaned forward and placed a hand on Hermione's. "The baby is fine," Mia informed her. Hermione let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. "The wards I've placed around the room stop the baby from seeking out its father's magic, which is why you feel better. There are a series of potions we're going to be placing you on to bring the child to the developmental stage it should be at. It'll take about two weeks, after which you'll be free to go."

Hermione nodded numbly.

"In the meantime, it would be a good idea to contact the father if we can. You'll need his presence there, especially if there are future complications. Blood transfusions, magical supplements." She waved her hand, nonverbally saying the list went on.

Hermione turned pale and quickly shook her head. "Is there… is there a way around that?"

Mia eyed the younger witch for a long moment. "There are instances where the father has passed away or… unsuitable to be around the mother. In these situations, we place these same wards we have in this room in the mother's home. As long as you spend at least 14 hours a day within the wards, you should be fine, but that varies depending on the magical power of the child."

The curly-haired witch blinked rapidly. She looked around the room as she licked her lips. "Wait, let me just… let me understand. The baby? The baby is using magic to seek out the father's magic?" Mia nodded. "That's why it isn't growing?"

"Yes. The child's magic is currently focused on finding and connecting with the father - the other main source of magic. Since it can't find him, the fetus continues to search. The process stalls the physical development and hurts you. But as I said, there are ways around it, such as these wards which act as a dampener so that the baby won't search for the father's magic. The child will grow through your magic alone. We've used this process before and there have never been any physical, mental, or magical developmental problems with the child. I will admit, there tend to be links between magical proficiency in certain subjects between child and mother."

"Like, I'm good at charms and potions so the baby would be too?"

"Exactly."

"Okay."

There was a long moment of silence while Hermione digested this information. She was pregnant. She was five months pregnant. In about four months she would be a mother. Oh, gods. A mother. She was not ready to be a mother.

"The father?" Mia prompted. Hermione nearly swallowed her tongue. She shot Mia a wide-eyed stare. "Is he… alive?"

She nodded quickly. "But he… well, it was just a one-night thing. We - he… I'm fairly certain he got back together with his girlfriend." Oh, gods. Was she carrying Harry's sibling? Oh, Merlin. She was, wasn't she? Hermione grimaced.

Mia gave her a sympathetic smile. "Regardless, we need to know. If something happens, he'll need to be called."

Hermione made a face. "I'm… I'm too far along to do anything, aren't I?"

Healer Mia looked down at her clipboard for a moment. "Technically, because of the development of the baby right now, you aren't. But procedures like that don't exist in Britain. A muggle procedure wouldn't work. There are experimental ones in France but they can have… long-lasting side effects."

"What do you mean?"

"I just learned of a couple who had the procedure performed. The wife will never be able to have children again."

"Oh…" Hermione's eyes teared. She looked down at her hands. Her scar glared up at her from her forearm. "I… I had to take potions for a year after…" She ran a finger over the word on her arm. "I was crucioed. It was really bad," she whispered. Mia remained quiet. "There was a lot of damage and for a little while, I couldn't…" She looked up at the other witch, tears in her eyes. "They said I was lucky… that the potions worked and I - I could have children again." Hermione fell back against the pillows as her tears finally fell.

"Something like this is never an easy decision to make."

She shrugged. "There's no decision." She placed a hand on her stomach. What would it feel like round and full of life? "I'm having it." Hermione closed her eyes and took a moment to compose herself. "James Potter," she finally said. "The father is James Potter."

With her eyes still closed, she completely missed Mia's shocked expression. Her eyes widened and the hazel gaze she shared with her son pinned the young witch to the bed. By the time Hermione had opened her eyes again, Euphemia Potter had managed to conceal her surprise.

"I don't want to tell him," Hermione explained painfully. "Please, I don't want to intrude on his life."

Mia blinked rapidly as she tried to find the words. "Have you spoken to him since…?"

"No! And I don't plan to. Please."

Healer Mia opened her mouth to argue but paused when she saw the set of the young witch's jaw. She wasn't going to budge. Mia sighed. "Okay," she agreed. "But this will only work under certain conditions. The first of which being that if there is any sort of complication, we contact the father."

Hermione made a face but nodded her agreement.

"Good. Now, I'll get you those potions and we can work on the rest of those conditions, shall we?"

Hermione smiled and nodded again.

"It's a boy," Hermione primly informed the nurse. Mia quietly entered the room as the two spoke.

The nurse shook her head in exasperation. "It's a girl. I just did the spell. I can do it again."

"Your spell is wrong," Hermione replied with a shrug.

"The spell is hardly ever wrong."

"It is this time."

Healer Mia held back a smirk. "Thank you, Sunny. That will be all." The nurse let out a huff of breath and left. Mia saw Hermione's little smirk as the nurse stalked out of the room and couldn't help but laugh. "And how are we feeling today?"

"A little like a balloon," Hermione responded with false cheer.

Mia snorted and shook her head. She closed the door behind Sunny and reset the wards. When she turned back around, she eyed the mother of her grandchild. Hermione Granger had proven in her two weeks at the hospital to be a stubborn, intelligent, and wonderful witch. She was propped up in bed with a pile of books on the floor beside her as high as the bedside table.

"What are we reading today?"

"Hogwarts, A History," Hermione replied. She had the book in her lap and had to lean over her now prominent baby belly to read the text.

The healer smiled and settled into her chair beside Hermione's bed. "This will be the third time you've read that particular text in the last two weeks, you are aware of that, right?"

Hermione stuck her tongue out and Mia laughed. "I'll have you know it's the fourth time. We have just reached Godric Gryffindor." She rubbed her belly. "It's our favourite part."

Healer Mia smiled. "Hoping for a Gryffindor?" Hermione shrugged, but her smile didn't falter. Mia almost mentioned how high the likelihood of the baby being a Gryffindor was thanks to James but bit her tongue. There was an unspoken agreement between the two witches that they didn't talk about James.

"I went by your flat," Mia explained.

Hermione looked up from her book. "I was kicked out, right?" The healer winced. Hermione groaned. "The perils of renting week by week." She shook her head. "I haven't been mailing out potions either so it's not like I'd be able to pay them for the missed weeks anyways."

"I had thought about that. Though I did wonder if there were any things you may have left there? They wouldn't tell me."

Hermione shook her head in the negative. "I keep most of my things on me… habit. There were some potion ingredients and food. Maybe some clothes. Nothing important."

Mia nodded as she thought that over. "That's good. Well, I found you a solution."

Hermione glared at her. "I'm not moving in with you."

The healer smirked and rolled her eyes. "As if I'd want a temperamental pregnant witch in my home. My husband would be furious. You're worse than I was." Hermione actually looked offended at that. Mia laughed. In a truly motherly gesture, she tucked Hermione's curls behind her ear. The young witch smiled in the same eager, sad way that she always did when Mia was overly motherly with her. "As I said, I found you a solution. Think you're ready to get out of here?"

Hermione hugged her pregnant belly and smiled excitedly. "You mean go outside?"

Mia raised a stern eyebrow. "Not for too long. Remember, you need to-"

"-keep within the wards," Hermione finished dully. "Yes, I know. I just want to get out of this bloody hospital room. If I have to see Sunny and her snooty face one more time…"

"You'll what? Turn her yellow again?"

"It's her own fault," Hermione defended. "Who names their child Sunny and not expect them to get turned bright yellow?" She sighed and turned contemplative. "I think it suited her."

Mia shook her head, thinking this witch was utterly perfect for her son. The thought had crossed her mind more times than she cared to admit in the two weeks that Hermione had spent as her patient. She was intelligent, passionate, and just a little bit wicked. She could see why her devil-may-care, hopeless romantic of a son would have fallen into bed with her.

"Well, come on then. I brought you a dress to wear." Mia placed a bundle of cloth on her stack of books before she stood and helped Hermione out of bed. "You can change while I gather the papers to discharge you, then I'll take you to the flat."

"Flat?"

"You need somewhere to live," she reasoned with a delicate shrug.

"I have no money," Hermione responded with suspicion.

Mia aimed a discreetly blank expression at the younger witch. "It's been taken care of."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Mia."

"Oh, don't give me that look, darling. There's a fund with the ministry for these sorts of situations. I simply filled out the paperwork for you. I did, however, buy you a few things to help you settle in."

"Mia," she groaned. Hermione was not one for charity. From the ministry, fine, but not from Healer Mia.

Mia cupped Hermione's cheeks. They'd grown plumper in her pregnancy and Mia thought she looked adorable. "I need someone to spoil. It was nothing. Come on, get dressed and I'll be back in a few minutes. Pack your books up."

Hermione sighed loudly and rolled her eyes. The older witch ignored her obvious displeasure and left. Hermione looked down at the bundle of clothing Mia had left on her pile of books. She lifted it up to find a long blue dress with white flowers on it. It buttoned up the front and was obviously muggle in appearance and design. Hermione was mildly surprised, she'd pegged Mia for a half-blood at least, if not a pureblood.

Hermione stripped out of her hospital wear, more than happy to shed the uncomfy gown in favour of the dress. She buttoned up the final button and moved to the mirror in the bathroom. She turned and placed a hand on her bump. She was 20 weeks along and it was more than obvious she was with child.

Hermione stared at the bump, wondering what her mother would say if she could see her. She'd probably cry tears of joy. Helena had been convinced Hermione wouldn't have kids until she was too old to enjoy grandkids. Honestly, it had sort of been the plan. Kids had not been anywhere on the to-do list even before she fell back in time. Before she and Ron broke off their engagement, even.

"Hermione?" Mia called.

"In here."

Mia appeared in the doorway. "You didn't pack your books." She raised that signature stern eyebrow of hers. Hermione often wondered if she taught it to Professor McGonagall.

"Sorry, mum." She slipped past Mia and headed towards her things.

"Oh, don't you dare start with that unless you plan to keep it," Mia scolded.

Hermione snorted and waved her wand. The books flew into her purse which she pulled over her shoulder. When she turned around, Mia was smiling that soft, slightly sad smile that Hermione sometimes caught her with. "What?" Mia raised her eyebrows in silent question. "You had that smile on your face you get," Hermione pointed out. "What're you thinking?"

She had been thinking about how much she would love to have Hermione call her 'mum.' Instead of saying this, Healer Mia pointed to Hermione's purse. "That's illegal."

The younger witch narrowed her eyes, a little smile touched her lips. "I don't know what you're talking about."

The two witches shared a conspiring smirk before Mia held out her hand. Hermione took a deep breath before taking it. Slowly, Mia guided her out of the room she'd spent the last two weeks confined within.

They stopped by the nurse's station and Hermione filled out her discharge forms. Mia kept an arm around her shoulders as she signed the papers. "How're you feeling?"

Hermione nodded hesitantly. "Good. I feel good."

Her healer smiled brightly. "That's wonderful." Both witches breathed a sigh of relief. There was always a chance that the baby's pull towards the father was strong early on. Hermione had privately worried that Harry's brother would have as strong of an attachment to his father as Harry had always had. Her worry had nonverbally transferred to Healer Mia.

"Alright, to the floos. Come along, dear." Mia led her patient to the floos set up in the maternity ward's emergency entrance. There was a sectioned off area of apparition and Mia instructed Hermione to take a deep breath after she led the young witch there.

Hermione closed her eyes and took deep breaths in through her nose and out through her mouth. She decided she did not like apparition while pregnant. Mia waited patiently for Hermione to gather herself.

"Please tell me we never have to do that again."

Mia chuckled under her breath and smoothed a comforting hand down Hermione's curls. "We never have to do that again." She tugged on Hermione's arm and led them out of the alley they had apparated into.

The summer heat hit them. Hermione raised a hand and squinted against the bright afternoon sunlight. They were just down the street from the Leaky, she immediately noted. Mia led her down the familiar street and stopped in front of an antique bookshop. Hermione shot the older witch a look. Mia smirked and shuffled them another foot to the side where a second door stood.

"For a moment there, I was really excited."

Mia laughed. "Well, it's not like you're all that far from the bookshop. I'm sure you'll keep them in business."

"Or put them out of business when I buy all their books."

Mia shook her head. "Come on." She produced a key and opened the front door. A high set of stairs led them up to the second floor where Hermione's new flat awaited them.

They reached the first landing that held only a door to the left. Hermione opened it to find the bathroom done up in bright white pieces and pink accents. Up another three steps was the kitchen with new appliances and a two-seater breakfast bar. There was a little window over the sink that Hermione immediately noted had been charmed to show green fields of grass since she was fairly certain there was actually a bedroom on the other side of that window.

Past the breakfast bar was a kitchen table and the living room beyond. Hermione stepped further into the flat, her eyes wide on the cream walls and wood flooring. It was finely furnished with a plush L shaped couch and a big fireplace. The entire back wall of the living room was a wall of tall glass windows with heavy blue curtains.

"It's beautiful," she breathed. She shook her head. "Mia, this is too much. You - you went overboard."

"It was nothing," Healer Mia sniffed.

Hermione arched a brow at her. "You can't honestly tell me that you do this for all your patients."

Mia shrugged. "Most of it came from the ministry." Hermione didn't really believe her but decided to let it go. "This, however, was all me." She took Hermione's arm and guided her around the kitchen table to the first door past the kitchen counter. Inside was a fully decorated nursery.

Hermione gasped.

The walls were a warm cream colour, nearly golden. The bedding of the crib was red, as were the curtains and the cushions on the rocking chair in the corner. There was a Gryffindor banner hanging from the wall.

"You said Godric was your favourite."

"I said that today," Hermione choked out. She was far too hormonal for this level of surprise.

Mia rolled her eyes. "You say that like I'm not observant. You're a Gryffindor fan, darling. It's obvious you want her to end up there."

"He," she corrected as she ran a hand over the bright red baby blanket. It had a golden griffin emblazoned on the front.

"Not according to Sunny," Mia sing-songed.

Hermione gasped. "Don't mention that horrible woman in my home."

Mia smiled lovingly at her. She pressed a kiss to Hermione's head. "There are three bookcases in the master bedroom," she informed her instead of apologizing.

"Only three?" Hermione replied with a mock pout. Mia laughed.

She turned and went back into the kitchen to make some tea. Hermione took another long look around the nursery. Her heart ached in her chest. It was beautiful. Mia had really outdone herself. She picked up the little teddy bear from the corner of the crib and hugged it to her chest.

There was a dresser by the door that Hermione was sure was full of baby clothes. A matching changing table was set against the other wall. In the corner across from the rocking chair was a box of baby toys. Hermione pressed a hand against her round stomach. Less than four months, now.

"Hermione?" Mia called from the kitchen. The young witch stepped out of the nursery, still hugging the teddy bear to her chest. Healer Mia smiled at the sight of her. "I just put the kettle on." She gestured around the apartment. "I've warded the entire place. Whenever you are within the boundaries of this flat, you and the baby will be safe. Remember, you're required to stay at least 14 hours within the wards and that this varies. The further you get in the pregnancy, the stronger the baby's magic becomes and the longer you'll need to remain housebound."

Hermione pouted and played with the teddy's ear. "Don't remind me."

"Or… you could tell the father." Hermione's mouth grew pinched. "Don't you think he deserves to know?"

Hermione sighed loudly. "I don't want to talk about this."

"You're 20 weeks along, darling. He -"

"He's with someone else!" she shouted.

Mia leaned forward across the counter. "He's not," she informed Hermione quietly. The younger witch looked up. "I… asked around." Hermione's eyes widened. "No one knows about you, don't worry. But he's still single. His ex-fiancé ran off with someone else. The two haven't gotten back together."

Hermione's fingers tightened around the teddy bear. "At all?"

"No, dear."

"And she's…?"

Mia shrugged. "She's with someone else… supposedly." Hermione didn't respond. Her eyes were staring so intently on the kitchen counter Mia was sure she'd burn a hole through it. A change of topic was in order. "The fridge is fully stocked. I'll be by in a few days to check on you. Send a note through the floo if you need anything at all." She stepped around the counter and squeezed Hermione's shoulder in comfort. "Please, just think about it." She left the keys on the counter.

The moment the door closed behind the healer, Hermione collapsed into a chair. The tears fell down her cheeks unbidden. She wrapped her arms around her belly - her baby - and sobbed for her best friend.

Lily wasn't pregnant.

Harry wasn't going to be born.

Hermione threw the teddy across the room. She'd messed it up. She'd messed it all up. Just being there in the past, she'd destroyed the entire future. And there wasn't anything she could do to help. She was confined to this little flat for the majority of the day and in another month she probably wouldn't be able to leave at all.

The second she had the baby, she would have a whole new priority. There was nothing she could do to help this war without endangering her baby and now there was no one to stop the war either. Her eyes widened and she choked on a gasp. Neville. Neville would be the Chosen One.

Hermione clutched her belly and cried harder.

She'd ruined everything.

"She has a sister," Sirius finished like it was all he had to say.

James rolled his eyes. He opened the fridge and pulled out a butterbeer. Sirius nodded and he tossed one to him as well. "I'm not double dating with you," James deadpanned.

"It's not really a double date."

James glared acrimoniously.

Remus snorted from where he sat on the kitchen counter. "Yes, James, Padfoot doesn't date. It's beneath him. Like most of his witches."

"Oi," Sirius protested. "Don't limit me, I like a pretty witch to bounce on top too." James snickered despite himself. Sirius smirked at him, a triumphant glint in his eye. "You need to get over this witch. It's becoming unhealthy."

"Becoming?" Remus quipped around a mouthful of crisps.

Sirius nodded and reached over the door of the fridge to grab another butterbeer. He tossed it to the werewolf who caught it easily. "Fair point. James has been annoying since pretty much 24 hours after the fact."

James pouted and sipped his butterbeer. "Leave me alone." Remus and Sirius laughed.

The kitchen door swung open and Mia snapped, "Off my counter, Remus." Remus half jumped, half fell off the counter and muttered an apology. She narrowed her eyes at Sirius and Remus. "Are you two picking on my son, again?" They both smirked and replied in the affirmative. "Good."

"Mum," James complained.

Mia smiled and pressed a kiss to her son's cheek. He immediately melted and pulled her into a hug. A year ago, she and Monty had been poisoned. They had thought it was Dragon Pox at first. There had been a dark moment where James thought he was going to lose them both. He was particularly doting on both his parents now, something Mia milked for all it was worth.

"What're you torturing my son about this time?" She pulled back and gestured to the wine rack. "Pour me something red, darling."

"Yes, mum." James pulled out a bottle of red wine and went about uncorking it.

"James won't go out with me," Sirius complained.

"Well, I don't know why not." Mia tapped his cheek. "You're such a pretty boy."

Sirius grabbed Mia's hand and held it to his heart. "Thank you, ma'am." Mia rolled her eyes and looked back to her son.

James was smirking. "I prefer my boyfriends to be taller than me," he claimed with a simple shrug.

Sirius' eyes narrowed. "Two inches. Just two!"

James' smirk widened. "Two inches makes all the difference." Remus' shoulders hunched as he shook with laughter. James shot him a grin and chuckled under his breath.

Mia sighed and rolled her eyes as Sirius huffed dramatically. James handed her a glass of wine and she took a long sip. "Boys," she muttered. They grew bigger but they never actually got any older, did they?

"Jamie is hung up on some bird," Sirius explained to Mia. "I'm trying to help him be less pathetic."

"She's not some bird and I'm not pathetic."

Remus nodded his head side to side. "You're a bit pathetic."

James shot him a glare. "Traitor."

"Speaking of traitors," Remus drawled and the three others tensed. He lowered his voice to a more serious tone. "Does anyone know what Dumbledore plans to do with… Pettigrew? It's been a year."

Mia scowled fiercely. "I believe the aurors took it out of his hands," she responded tightly. "He's set for Azkaban."

Sirius' fingers tightened around the neck of his butterbeer. "Should'a killed him when we had the chance."

James immediately gave a resounding, "No," with a shake of his head. "Justice is better. I'd rather him rot for what he tried to do to you two." Peter's attempt on Mia and Monty's lives through the slow use of poison had not only nearly killed them but had nearly driven the entire friend group apart. It burned James just a little bit that he never would have known if Lily hadn't left him.

She had run off to Snape and the moment she realized her childhood friend was supplying Peter with poison and what for, she had told James. James didn't understand how she could stay with that monster. Snape may not have given his parents the poison, but he'd given it to Peter and had known exactly what it was being used for. It was, after all, all on the orders of their Lord and Master.

"I don't want to talk about this," Mia decided with a shake of her head. She took a long gulp of her wine. "It's over and we all need to move on." She brushed imaginary lint from her son's shoulder. "Tell me about this girl."

James sighed and shook his head. "There's nothing to tell. She's disappeared. I can't find her anywhere and believe me, I've looked."

"Just let it go," Sirius moaned. "The bird has you wrapped around her little finger and she hasn't even got a clue. She ran out, let her run."

"As much as I hate to admit it," Remus added, almost sounding pained, "Sirius might be right." James gasped dramatically at the same time that Sirius punched the air. "The witch clearly doesn't want to be found."

James glared at his friends. "She has a name," he protested.

Sirius snorted. "She has a mouthful."

"Hermione," he insisted. "Her name is Hermione. And it's a beautiful name so shut it."

Mia pressed a hand to her chest. "Hermione?"

James turned a charming smile on his mother. "She was amazing. You'd love her, mum. She was so pretty and so smart. These wild curls."

"A little sex kitten," Sirius put in. "Blew little Jamie's mind. Blew my mind too and I wasn't even in the room."

James blushed bright red. "Not in front of my mother."

Mia rolled her eyes. "I am well aware you have sex, sweetheart. I am a healer and so are you. I'm not blind to the hormones of little boys." All three boys groaned in embarrassment. Even James, despite the fact that he too was a healer. "She disappeared?"

James shrugged and nodded.

"Your father drives me nuts," she explained with seeming randomness. "It was even worse when we were younger. Before I got pregnant with you, I ran off on him no less than six times." Sirius snorted in amusement. Mia smirked at him. "Sometimes, a woman needs her space. Your father found me the first two times and then I got smart. Witches who like space get good at making sure that no one can find them." She cupped James' cheek and smiled warmly. "I always came back."

"Yeah, but you and dad were married. Hermione doesn't even know me. She has no reason to seek me out."

Mia gave her son a long look. "Of course, she does. You're you. Just give her time. No one can resist that Potter charm. Believe me," she added sardonically, "I've tried."

The wards warmed for a moment, announcing the entrance of a guest. Mia followed the boys out to the entrance foyer where Monty and his guest were dusting off their robes next to the floo.

"Augusta!" Mia greeted with a polite smile and a nod. "Lovely to see you."

Augusta Longbottom's lips turned downward. "It'd be more lovely if I had a drink in my hand."

James nodded, biting back a smile. "Firewhiskey?"

"Bring the bottle," the witch called over her shoulder as she made her way into the drawing-room. The others looked to Monty who gave them a shake of the head and followed Augusta.

"What happened?" Mia asked as she sat in an armchair.

James placed a very tall glass of firewhiskey in Augusta's hand and set the bottle beside her. The witch, only starting to grey at her temples, took a long gulp of her drink. Sirius raised his drink in cheers, always impressed with just how much Augusta could drink.

"We told Dumbledore about the baby today."

The room turned tense. They'd all been informed weeks previously, but Frank had kept it away from Dumbledore for as long as possible. Alice had stopped going to meetings altogether to avoid him noticing her lack of a growing middle. They'd wanted to put it off for as long as possible. No one wanted to be the one to tell Dumbledore that the prophecy was going to fail.

Remus looked back and forth between Augusta and Monty. "How did he take it?"

Augusta's lip curled into a sneer. "Like any temperamental child." She rolled her eyes and shook her head. "That man."

Monty rubbed a hand down his face. "I'd never seen him so mad before." He snorted a short laugh. "And I'd never seen Frank mad at all." He shook his head.

Augusta smiled broadly. "I've never been so proud."

"Where is he now?" James asked as he sat down on the arm of his mother's chair.

"With Alice. The poor girl." Augusta shook her head.

Mia made a sound of sympathy. "How is she?"

"Better," Augusta claimed with a nod. "She got up yesterday and out of bed with a new purpose. She announced that she hadn't made her sacrifice for nothing and that the war had to come to an end. After which, she plans to adopt a baby."

Monty nodded and smiled in approval. "That's a wonderful idea."

Mia looked between each of the occupants of the room. "I still don't understand why this needed to be done? Why should Dumbledore care?"

There was a moment of silence until Augusta huffed. "You didn't tell her?" The men looked down at their drinks. "She is the head of the Maternity Ward at St. Mungos! Every witch that gets pregnant in the country passes through her department." She rolled her eyes at their lack of response. "Boys." August leaned towards the older witch and briskly explained, "There was a prophecy. It foretold the downfall of the Dark Lord by a child born of a family that has thrice defied You-Know-Who and born in the seventh month."

Mia's mouth opened but no words came out. "July?" she asked weakly. "Who? What families are involved?" She ran through her mental list of babies being born this year from families that were opposed to Voldemort.

"The Longbottoms, the Bones…" Monty winced and shook his head. "There was only a rumour that the Bones' were expecting." The entire family had been wiped out several months ago. "There are a few others."

Mia raised a hand to her mouth. "You should have told me," she scolded.

James placed a hand on his mother's shoulder. "We didn't want to worry you because… well, we're on the list."

Mia went cold. Hermione, she immediately thought. She mentally shook herself. No. Hermione was already five months pregnant. She wasn't due until the start of September. Mia squeezed James' leg. "You should have told me," she repeated sternly.

"We know," James said by way of apology.

"What are the other families? I need a list."

Hermione turned the corner of the aisle of books and descended deeper into the antique bookstore. Within the first two weeks of living in her new flat, she had gotten to know all the employees of the quaint little shop. She stopped in at least once a day to pick up a few books which she would then take to a nearby park.

For the most part, Hermione stayed on the muggle side of the world. She lived only down the street from the Leaky but otherwise resisted the temptation. After one trip to Diagon for potion ingredients and a new cauldron set, she had stayed far away.

Hermione had filled her apartment with plants that she grew for her potions and tentatively started up her mail-order potion business once again. It was simple, with most of the potions she made being relatively easy. She stuck to only making ones with harmless ingredients, deciding that once the baby was born, it wouldn't be good to have dangerous magical plants lying in wait.

She pressed a hand to her stomach and tried not to groan at the pain in her back. Hermione was fairly positive she looked like she'd swallowed a bowling ball. She felt like she had. Her ankles killed, her back ached, and she weighed a million pounds.

"How 'bout this one?"

Hermione blinked at the book that was shoved under her nose. Grimm's Fairy Tales. She wrinkled her nose in distaste. "I'm not a fan."

Chris lowered the book, an expression of mock outrage on his face. "How can anyone not be a fan of the Brothers Grimm?" Chris worked at the bookstore frequently and had taken an instant shine to Hermione. He was bright and playful and the two bantered about books relentlessly.

She shrugged and shook her head. "They make witches out to be mean and evil. I don't want to vilify the idea of magic."

He raised an eyebrow. "I think the baby will get over that fact when they realize magic isn't real." Chris was also a muggle.

Hermione sighed and looked away. "Oh, how about Paradise Lost? I haven't read this one in ages."

The bookshop worker nodded. "No, yes, right. Teach the child that he's inherently evil instead."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Teach him that actions speak louder than words. Just because someone claims to be good and helpful, doesn't mean they are."

"Why do I feel like you're not talking about the snake?"

Hermione smiled sweetly. "Because I'm not." She gave the book to Chris. "I want that one. And the ugliest copy of a Shakespeare play you've got."

"Genre?"

"Tragedy," she sighed as she ran a finger down the spine of Marlowe's Doctor Faustus. "Always tragedy."

Chris frowned at her reply but didn't comment. He picked out something for her and she followed him to the register. "Park today?"

"There's a cafe I spotted on a walk yesterday. I think I'll try it out."

"That sounds nice. Good weather for it. Enjoy the sun while it lasts."

"I plan to," Hermione replied with a bright smile. She handed Chris some money and took the book from him. She frowned at the play. "A Winter's Tale is not a tragedy," she complained.

"It's a comedy and a tragedy," the young man argued. "You need a little comedy in your life. Everyone does."

She rolled her eyes. "Spoil all my fun why don't you?" she joked with a half-false pout. Chris opened his mouth with a grin, but Hermione missed whatever he said. The room spun. She clutched the counter to steady herself.

"Hermione? Hermione!"

A hand grasped her elbow to help steady her. The room continued to spin. "I don't feel good." Her chest constricted and it was suddenly becoming rather difficult to breathe.

"Shit. I'm taking you to the hospital."

"No," Hermione groaned. "I need to lie down."

"Hermione," Chris protested.

"I'm fine! I just need to lay down." She quickly fished her keys from her purse. "Take me upstairs?"

"Right, yup. On it." He turned and shouted for a coworker over his shoulder. "Man the shop, I'll be back in a minute." He slowly helped Hermione out of the shop and through her front door. The moment she made it over the threshold, she could breathe easily once more.

She braced a hand against the wall and took a deep breath.

"Hermione?" Chris sounded like he was going to turn her around and march her to the hospital.

Hermione shook her head. "I was dizzy this morning," she fibbed. "I thought it would just pass as the day wore on."

"We should call a doctor," he pressed.

She nodded. "I have one. Upstairs." Chris helped her up the stairwell. By the time she was being lowered onto the couch, she felt fine again. "A glass of water?"

Chris rushed to the kitchen and poured her a glass of tap water. He brought it over and knelt down before her. His bright blue eyes were creased with worry. "Want me to get you the phone?"

She shook her head, knowing he wouldn't find any form of a muggle phone line in her flat. "I feel much better. I should have just stayed in bed today."

"You need to call your doctor," he insisted.

"I will, I promise. You're very sweet to do this, but I promise I'm fine now."

"Hermione…"

She smiled sweetly. "Pregnant women get dizzy. It sort of comes with the territory. Go back to work, Chris."

"But what if something's wrong?"

She fondly rolled her eyes. "Nothing is wrong. Go back to work."

"I'm checking on you the moment my shift is done, alright?" She nodded. Chris sighed and nodded back. He pressed a kiss to her forehead and headed towards the door. Hermione's eyes widened at his overt affection and her already flushed cheeks turned a darker shade of red. "The keys are on the counter. Please call the shop for anything, okay?"

"Mhmm," she squeaked in acknowledgement. He gave her a fond smile before he ducked down the stairs and out of the apartment. The door closed and Hermione released a breath. Her head fell back against the couch and she groaned loudly. She did not need this right now.

Hermione set her glass on the side table and pulled out a scrap of parchment and a quill. She scrawled out a quick note, folded it, and addressed it to Mia. She sent it through the floo network before settling back on her couch. Only a few minutes later, the floo flared bright green and Mia appeared.

"What happened?"

"I got dizzy," Hermione pouted. "I was in the bookstore and it just swept over me. I had only left the flat less than an hour before and then it just happened."

Mia's brow creased worriedly. She gestured Hermione back to the couch and began to wave her wand. Hermione patiently waited, her hands resting on her bowling ball stomach while the healer did her magic.

Mia's eyebrows shot up. "The baby's magic increased."

"You sound surprised," Hermione observed slowly.

"This is more a time for the baby to develop physically, not magically." She took a seat on the couch beside Hermione and checked her temperature the old fashioned way with a hand to the young woman's forehead. "It's not bad," she assured before Hermione could ask. "It's just unusual. I've looked into the father's medical records-"

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Is that allowed?"

Mia arched a brow and sniffed. "Only as long as we don't get caught."

"'We' she says as if I was involved."

Mia ignored her. "James' development as a fetus was fairly ordinary. However, his mother exhibited signs of accidental magic which, if you ask any fine Diviner, means he was destined to be a troublemaking class clown."

Hermione slowly nodded. "Wow. First time I didn't think Divination was all hogwash." Mia snorted in amusement. Hermione shifted on the couch. No position was comfortable anymore, not at 22 weeks pregnant. "Well, my mum never exhibited any weird magic. But she claimed I did from a very young age." She shrugged and looked away.

"Every pregnancy is different," Mia responded neutrally, well aware that Hermione had never once spoken about her parents before. "Regardless, it looks like you're going on house arrest early."

"But I had a whole other month!" Hermione protested childishly.

"Well, your little…" she paused and Hermione glared," … boy… had other plans."

Hermione stuck out her bottom lip. "I blame his father."

"Well, since he's not here to defend himself, that's a rather good idea," the elder witch deadpanned. Hermione glared.

"How am I supposed to live cooped up in here for another three and a half months?" Hermione looked around at her flat like she was seeing a prison cell.

"I'll come by more often. Do the shopping for you and make sure you don't go insane."

"You don't have to do that."

"Would you rather I let you starve?" Mia questioned primly.

Hermione sighed and rubbed her hands over her stomach. "No…" She pouted again. "I just feel like I'm monopolizing your time. Weren't you at work?"

Mia smiled indulgently and pushed a lock of hair behind the younger witch's ear. "Hermione, love? You are one of my patients. This is part of my job. You aren't the first muggle-born witch to fall under my care." Hermione looked up with big brown eyes. Mia leaned closer and conspiratorially whispered, "But you are my favourite." Hermione smiled broadly.

The downstairs door opened. "Hermione?"

"Chris?" She shifted on the couch so she was no longer slouching.

He appeared at the top of the stairs and paused when he saw Mia. The older woman arched her brow, looking formidable and scolding with little effort. "Oh, you have company."

Hermione smiled awkwardly. "This is my doctor. Mia, this is Chris. He works in the bookshop."

Mia dismissed Chris with a single glance. She turned her arched brow on Hermione who tried not to cower. "And what is he doing in your home?"

Hermione's cheeks flushed.

"I brought her books," he explained and raised them as if to prove his point. He glanced at Hermione nervously. "You left them at the counter. Not that I blame you, with how you were feeling." He turned back to Mia. "She's alright, isn't she?"

"I don't see how that's any of your business."

Chris looked down at his shoes, his face red. He nodded once. "Right. I'll just leave these here." He placed the books on the kitchen counter. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

"I'm afraid not," Mia responded stiffly. "Hermione will be on bed rest for the rest of her pregnancy."

Chris blinked owlishly. "Oh… well, I can bring some books for you. Just call and put an order together and-"

"That's kind of you but completely unnecessary." Mia raised her eyebrows. "Was there anything else?"

"Oh, no." Chris glanced at Hermione who gave him a look of sympathy. "Uhm… feel better, Hermione."

"Thanks, Chris." There was a long moment of silence that lasted even after the front door closed. Mia stood and moved to the kitchen. She began to brusquely throw together two cups of tea. The kettle was set on the stovetop. "Mia…" Hermione shifted and huffed her way to her feet. She came around to the side of the breakfast bar and sighed at the older witch. "He's just a friend."

"Oh, well that's good." Mia opened cabinets until she found Hermione's ever-moving tin of biscuits. "Does he know that?"

Hermione grimaced. "We see each other at the bookstore. Today was the first time he's ever even been in the flat." She didn't even know why she was defending herself, but she knew Mia was upset about the muggle's presence. "Is it because he's non-magical?" she questioned slowly. Mia had seemed fine with muggles so far, but perhaps there had been some underlying prejudice she'd been hiding.

Mia huffed. "I don't care about that. You do realize you're pregnant with another man's child, yes?"

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "I'm well aware." She gestured to her stomach. "I can't sleep on my stomach anymore. Do you know how uncomfortable that is?"

"This isn't a joking matter."

"You're not joking?" she questioned sardonically. "I thought you must have been. You must have been joking when you insinuated that I would be attempting to seduce a man whilst 6 months pregnant."

Mia sniffed and pulled the kettle off the stovetop. She busied herself pouring tea for both of them.

"Mia," Hermione placated, "I have no intention of dating while pregnant and even fewer intentions of it once the baby is born."

Healer Mia sighed and set the kettle aside. "I know that. It's just… dangerous right now. I want you to…" Mia gasped and Hermione was startled to see the woman was on the verge of tears.

"Mia!" Hermione came around to the older witch's side and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Mia, it's okay."

Mia swallowed her tears down. "You need to be safe," the witch demanded past the lump in her throat. Her hands grasped Hermione's right arm and her eyes fell on the scar there. Mia choked. "No one can know."

"No one knows," Hermione soothed. "No one will know. I'm not due until September."

"September," Mia repeated with a nod.

Something tugged in Hermione's heart. Did Mia know about the prophecy? There was no Mia in the Order, not that she knew of, at least. "September," Hermione assured.

Mia pulled her close and pressed a motherly kiss to her head.

Chapter Text

Part Three

Mia looked out the window of the bookshop beside Hermione's flat. She was waiting while the muggle named Chris found the books on the list from her charge. Mia had picked it up when she stopped by with groceries. Hermione had pouted for a solid ten minutes because there wasn't chocolate icing and celery sticks.

Mia shook her head. Just shy of 29 weeks and the girl was having the strangest cravings. It was both amusing and sad. Amusing because Hermione was so disgusted by her own habits and sad because Mia knew James would have loved every moment of it. Although his name was no longer taboo for the younger witch, Hermione was still adamant that she didn't want to tell James. After learning about the prophecy, Mia wasn't pushing all that hard.

She knew Hermione was well out of the area of having a baby in the next month, but the fear was still present. There were no other families that had defied Voldemort three times that were even expecting. All the children were already born.

July was only a week away and the closer it drew, the more anxious Mia became.

The bell jingled as the door opened. "Mum?"

Mia spun around, her heart in her throat. "Jamie?"

James looked around with an amused grin on her face. "What're you doing here?"

"Oh," she looked around as well, not unaware of how completely out of place she looked in a muggle bookshop of all places, "I'm picking up some books for a patient."

James raised his eyebrows. "Kind of you."

"She's housebound."

He nodded. "Bummer." He'd worked with her in the Maternity Ward for a short time and knew the trials that many of the pregnant witches his mother worked with went through. As the Head of the Maternity Ward, Mia often worked with the more difficult cases that came through. Complications, unwanted pregnancies, abusive spouses, and muggle-born pregnancies were usually at the top of that list.

"Alright!" Chris announced as he set a large pile of books on the counter. "I think I've got everything on the list. Although, I couldn't find a copy of that Jane Austen one she wanted so I just grabbed a collection that has it."

James raised his eyebrows at the stack of books. "Damn, talk about feeling the need to escape."

Chris laughed. "Tell me about it. Poor girl all cooped up on her own all day."

James nodded along as he picked up another book. "Poet's of the 16th Century, who is this bird and how can I meet her?" he quipped and Chris laughed again.

Mia clenched her jaw. "Something came up, Christopher. I'll pick these books up later."

Chris opened his mouth, clearly thought better of it and nodded. "I'll put them to the side."

Mia smiled tightly. "Come along, sweetheart, let's have lunch." She grabbed James' arm and tried to pull him away from the books.

"This is your son?" Chris pointed to James.

Mia opened her mouth but James responded first. The black-haired wizard looked up with a charming smile. "James Potter." Mia silently groaned and looked around, hoping help would pop out of the abyss.

Why had she put Hermione right down the street from the Leaky? At the time it had seemed perfect, hoping James would happen upon her. Her wish had come true but she no longer thought it would be the greatest idea if they met.

Chris shook his hand. "Chris Teller, good to meet you. I take it from your earlier comment that you haven't met Hermione?"

James froze. Mia closed her eyes. He looked up from the book he was holding to Chris. "Hermione?"

The muggle nodded. "Yeah, she used to come in here loads. Buys books by the dozen, as you can tell. She lives right next door. Once she was put on bedrest, your mum started picking them up. She's her doctor, right?"

They both turned to Mia who looked like she'd seen a ghost.

"Mum?"

"... James," she began slowly, hoping he wouldn't fly off the handle. James dropped the book and dashed out the door. "James!" Mia rushed after him. "James wait!"

James spun around. "Is it who I think it is?"

"Please, darling, you need to calm down."

"I will not calm down. I've been looking for this girl everywhere." James' jaw clenched, his hazel eyes wide behind his thick-rimmed square glasses. "Were you just never going to tell me?"

Mia shook her head. "It wasn't my secret to share, you know that."

The realization suddenly dawned on James. "Your patient." His mum was the Head of the Maternity Ward. "Merlin's beard." He ran his hands through his hair. "She's pregnant."

"James," Mia soothed.

James paced away. He gestured to the building. "Which one?" he questioned as he looked up at the windows. "He said she lived here. Which flat?"

"James," Mia hissed when he refused to calm down.

"Hermione!" he shouted. "Hermione!"

Mia grabbed her son's arm and jerked him toward the wall of the buildings and away from the staring muggles. "Stop it!" she hissed at him in her most scolding tone. "You stop that this instant."

"Tell me which flat!" James ordered.

"No! You need to calm down. You can't just go barging into a pregnant witch's home with your wand drawn. You haven't seen this woman for months. Be reasonable."

James' brows drew together as his mother's words actually made an impact. He swallowed dryly. "... months. How… how far along…?" He met his mother's gaze with an obvious question in his gaze.

Mia looked down. James' heart dropped into the pit of his stomach. "... It wasn't my decision not to inform you."

"Oh, Christ," he breathed when he received confirmation. "Oh, gods. Mum." He looked at his mother pleadingly. He wasn't even sure what he was asking for, he never did. In the past, his mother had simply always known what to say or do.

This time, all Mia could do was shake her head. "I'm sorry, sweetheart."

"But then…" His eyes widened and Mia knew exactly what he was thinking.

"September," she confirmed. "She's not due until September."

"Oh, thank Merlin." He dropped his face into his hands and sighed in relief.

"No one else knows. I've made it the utmost priority." She touched James' arm in comfort. When he looked up at her again, he looked like he'd aged ten years. "Hermione is rather strict about the secrecy herself though that was mostly because she thought you'd gotten back together with Lily."

James slowly shook his head. "How does she even know about Lily?"

Mia shrugged. "Most people know your name, James. I'm sure someone said something. Maybe one of those gossip rags." She rolled her eyes. Witches Weekly had been writing about James since he hit puberty. It was a fact that drove his mother mad.

"Right…" He nodded once to himself. "I still want to see her."

"I… don't know if that's such a good idea."

He narrowed his eyes on her. "She's carrying my baby, mum. I have the right to see her, don't I? Just to talk to her? Should we warn her about the… you know." The prophecy.

Mia breathed in sharply. "Probably best not to unnecessarily stress her. She's… the baby."

James stared at his mother intensely. "Is everything alright? You said she was on bed rest." James was no stranger to magical pregnancy. He'd spent all of the previous year working in the Maternity Ward with his mother as a part of his healer internship. In fact, if Hermione had gotten pregnant a few months earlier, James could easily have been her attending physician.

"Housebound," Mia immediately corrected and James relaxed. "The baby's magic is strong. She can't move beyond the boundaries anymore."

His head tilted to the side. "It's fairly early for something like that to occur." Mia nodded. "You're worried," he pointed out.

She sighed. "There aren't any other babies to be born that fit the qualifications." She didn't need to expand for him to know she was talking about the qualifications of the prophecy.

"But the baby isn't due until well after July." They were both aware that the beginning of September was really only a month away from the end of July. A baby born a month early could survive easily in even the muggle world. In the magical world, the only complication that ever arose was the child's magical development. If the baby's magic hadn't developed enough before the birth, the chances of it being a squib rose drastically. "How strong is it?"

"It's somehow retained aspects of your magic," she whispered worriedly. She hadn't had anyone to voice her concerns about this to. Bringing it to Hermione would only raise her anxiety, which was already higher than normal.

James' brows rose at his mother's whispered confession. "That's not possible, I haven't seen her since the conception."

Mia shrugged and shook her head, obviously dumbfounded. "All I know is that that baby's magic is not completely moulded by Hermione's magical core alone. The wards are keeping Hermione safe but I think they're only providing a minor boundary for the baby to bypass. You can't stop thinking about her and I think that's an effect of the baby's magic finding you. It wants you to find them."

"But that's - that's…" He blinked rapidly and shook his head. It was magical self-awareness. That sort of magical culpability was only ever found in masters of magic. Only witches and wizards who had spent centuries honing their ability in the magical senses could expand and utilize their magic in such a way.

"Magical self-awareness?" Mia prompted when he grew lost in his astonishment. "Yes, I'm well aware. I haven't told Hermione. It would only scare her. She is inordinately stressed and honestly, I think she's depressed. There's something…" She stepped closer and whispered, "No one ever owls her. No friends. No family. She could have lost them but still…" Mother and son stared at each other for a prolonged, worried moment. "Who doesn't go looking for a witch like that?"

James let out a long breath. "I need to talk to her."

"Just… be kind. I think she has her reasons for keeping you at bay."

He scoffed at that. "Oh, she'd bloody well better."

Mia sighed and shook her head. She didn't want to, but she knew there was no way around it now that James knew. "Go get her books while I try to explain things to her, alright? We can't just ambush her."

James did not look impressed by that idea.

"Sweetheart, please. She's been cooped up for weeks. I am still her healer. I will bring you to her, but let me give her a moment to collect herself."

He sighed and nodded reluctantly. "Alright, fine. I'll get the books."

"Thank you." Mia turned and entered the door directly beside the bookstore. She closed the door behind her and waited a long moment. She heard James sigh again on the other side before walking away and knew she'd won. Mia let out a breath of relief. Thank Merlin for small mercies.

James stomped back into the bookshop with a glum frown on his face. He spotted Chris at the till and nodded once in greeting.

"Alright?"

The wizard shook his head. "I just need a bloody strong drink."

Chris snorted in amusement.

James gestured to the books. "I'll be getting these."

"'Course." He started to ring them up. His eyes darted up from the books to James periodically. "Look, mate," he said suddenly and leaned forward on the books, "I didn't mean to cause any fight between you and yer mum."

James shook his head. "You didn't do anything."

"Is it about Hermione?" he pressed. "Is she alright?"

The dark-haired wizard looked up from the counter. He raised an eyebrow at Chris. "You're friends?"

"Something like that. Someone's got to look after her, not like her deadbeat boyfriend's gonna."

James' other brow joined the first. "She said that?"

Chris scoffed and shook his head. "Doesn't need to. She's been living here for weeks and no one's come to visit her."

James narrowed his eyes. "Been keeping tabs on her, have you?"

"Just doing my part," the muggle responded with a charming grin and a wink.

James' jaw clenched. "Yeah, well do us all a favour and don't, alright? Just mind your own bloody business." He threw a wad of muggle cash on the counter and picked up the books. As he was heading out the door, he turned his head to glare at the muggle once more. "And I'm not a deadbeat!"

The door slammed shut behind him with a loud jangle from the bell above. James shook his head in frustration. When had today turned into such a shit show? He turned to the door to his right and gave it a wary look. Hermione's flat.

Hermione, who was having his baby.

Hermione, who was probably carrying the prophecy child and she didn't even bloody know it. He hated that his mother was right. They couldn't tell her. If she was already anxious and depressed, it would only make things worse. James leaned his head against the door, the stack of books pressed between his chest and the hardwood.

Magical awareness.

Was his search for Hermione nothing more than his child calling on his magic? No, he decided immediately. It was more than that. If it had just been about the baby, he would have simply been drawn to her location. And considering how often he'd been heading in and out of the Leaky the past few weeks, he guessed there was a bit of that at work. But his single-mindedness to find her was all him. He knew that. There was something about her. She was… His mind drifted to the way she'd looked when she smiled. The sound of her laughter.

She was like sunshine.

James took a deep breath. Now or never.

He fumbled with the doorknob before silently slipping into the flat. He looked up at the tall flight of stairs and cringed at the sound of shouting he could hear from above.

"I can't believe you!" what was unmistakably Hermione's voice shouted. James closed his eyes and paused at the bottom of the stairs. "I trusted you!"

"What was I supposed to say? You didn't want to tell him! I kept your secret for as long as I could," Mia defended herself.

"Oh please. You're his mother," she replied scathingly, "of course, you sided with him. He's probably known for ages."

"Hermione," his mother scolded in a tone she'd only ever reserved for him on the worst of days. A long silence followed before Hermione whispered something he couldn't catch.

James decided to save the witches from each other. He headed up the stairs before either one could further the argument. His interference wasn't needed. By the time he reached the top of the stairs, Mia was holding a crying Hermione. The young witch had her face pressed into his mother's shoulder as tears rolled down her cheeks. Mia shushed her comfortingly as she stroked her hand down the woman's long, dark curls.

When Hermione spotted James, she froze. Mia looked over her shoulder and smiled sadly at her son. She turned back to Hermione and gave her a comforting look. "I'll leave you two alone to talk."

Hermione sniffled and wiped at her cheeks. James barely noticed his mother's parting kiss to his cheek as she left. He slipped Hermione's stack of books onto the kitchen counter. The two stared at one another in a long minute of silence.

"I didn't…" he started abruptly. "I mean she didn't…" He shook his head. "I just found out."

Hermione nodded. She played with the hem of her sleeve. His eyes trailed over her as he soaked in the image of her. Her hair was longer. Her eyes darker than he remembered them being. Her stomach was huge. Christ, she was really pregnant.

James awkwardly ran a hand through his hair. The action fractured Hermione's moment of self-control and she broke down into sobs again. "Oh, shit." He was across the flat and at her side in seconds. He pulled her into his arms. Her scent of lavender surrounded him blissfully.

James guided her down onto the couch. "It's okay. It's gonna be okay. I'm not mad." Hermione snorted in disbelief even as she cried. He winced and nodded his head once. "Okay, yeah, that's a lie. I'm right furious with you but… I get it. I guess?"

She looked up at him and he conjured her a handkerchief. Hermione took it and dabbed at her eyes. "I thought you were back with your fiance."

He shook his head. "Definitely not. Been a bit busy looking for this wild-haired witch I met one night." He grinned at her. "Maybe you know her."

She didn't look like she believed him. "You've been looking for me?"

"Every day."

Hermione's cheeks turned pink. "Oh." She played with the handkerchief in her hands. She looked back up. "I didn't know at first. About the pregnancy." He winced. "I almost died."

"I'm sorry."

She shook her head. "It's not your fault. It's just… by the time I knew, I was already five months along. It'd have been crazy to just… go find you." Hermione swallowed and looked away.

He could tell she was lying. That wasn't the reason she'd kept the baby from him. He didn't think Lily was even the reason she'd kept it from him. As much as he'd like to know her reasoning, he didn't want to push her. "Well, I'm here now." She shifted on the couch and rested a hand on her baby belly. "We need to talk about it. You know, about what we're going to do?"

Hermione looked up. "What do you mean, do?"

He raised his eyebrows. "I'm not walking away from this, Hermione. This is my baby too. I want to be involved."

She opened her mouth but no words came out. She looked like she had half a mind to protest. He almost wanted to dare her to argue. At the end of the day, they both knew that as a pureblood wizard, the Wizengamot would give him full rights over her. He would never sue her for custody, but it also meant she could never file for full custody either. She was stuck with him.

Hermione sighed in defeat and slouched back against the couch. She wrapped her arms around her belly and gave the reason for the belly a sharp glare. "I don't want anyone else to know about the baby until after the birth."

James was completely onboard with that stipulation but he was rather curious that she was the one pushing for it. He raised an eyebrow inquiringly.

"I'm not stupid. I know You-Know-Who's been attacking families with babies on the way. Your family is famous for standing against him right now. I won't have a target on my back."

James nodded. "Agreed. We'll keep this a secret. Now I have a demand." She narrowed her eyes before nodding for him to continue. "I stay with you until the birth."

"Absolutely not," she immediately protested.

"Just hear me out," he pleaded with raised hands. "You'd be able to leave the wardings with me at your side. It's better for the baby's development and it's been known to relieve some side effects of pregnancy." Hermione did not look convinced. "It's also probably started to get a bit more difficult for you to do things. I can help out around the flat."

"And what will you tell your friends?" she questioned in a sharp tone that reminded him of his mother.

"Would you be alright if I told them the truth? I trust both of them with my life."

"Both? Aren't there four of you?"

James tensed. "Peter's in Azkaban."

Hermione's eyes widened. She looked less surprised than he expected. She didn't even ask why or how. "Oh… then yes. That's okay."

He watched her for a long moment. She was hiding things. It was almost blatantly obvious. He wanted to question her on her half-truths, but it didn't seem fair considering he was keeping the truth of the prophecy away from her as well as the fact that the baby was probably going to be the prophecy child.

Hermione shrugged awkwardly. "You can stay. But you're on the couch." She raised her eyebrows at him.

James grinned and nodded. "Sure thing. What about… what about after?"

"After?"

"After the baby is born? What do you want to do?"

Hermione looked at him with wide eyes. "I have no idea."

Hermione stretched out across the blanket that they'd set up in Hyde Park. It was a sunny afternoon and Hermione was soaking up every last bit of the warmth as she could. Hiding in her flat had wilted her and she felt like she was coming alive again.

She turned her head where it rested in James' lap and watched him while he read.

Hermione had realized in the first two weeks of her and James living together that she knew nothing about the man. He was absolutely nothing like what she had expected. Sure, he was fun and outgoing and he had a terrible habit of making her laugh so hard that the baby kicked. But he was also incredibly smart. She would actually say that he was dangerously smart. And by 'dangerous' she meant dangerous for her libido.

Hermione liked intelligence and James was very, very intelligent.

He was a certified healer, she'd learned. He had flown through healing studies like it was nothing and had since done internships in three different sections of St. Mungos.

"I want to go into this very specific branch of healing," he had explained to her. "It's basically research and diagnostic. The really amazing healers get called all over the world to work on the new and confusing cases. They're at the cutting edge of every possible illness. They need to be sharp and well rounded. I need to know everything about everything. There's no room for error when there's no procedure set in place."

"That's fascinating," she'd gushed and it was. He was always studying and learning various bits of obscure healing. He read theory papers and talked with sure, calm confidence about it all. Hermione had to sit down for each of these conversations. If she swooned, she'd likely lose her balance and topple over.

James had been enthusiastic about her getting out of the flat. They did daily walks and he was always excited to try out the muggle restaurants she chose. She liked that. Ron had hated to go into the muggle world. Even when she showed him something he liked - like muggle beer and football - he pretended like it was stupid. James, on the other hand, gladly immersed himself into muggle culture. He walked through her world confidently and she enjoyed the fact that she could be proud of her culture without the fear of mocking laughter.

James made a sound of interest as he read. His eyebrows raised and he nodded like he was in a conversation with whoever had written the book. He read like the words on the page were an open dialogue between himself and the author, even going so far as responding sometimes. It was adorable. Hermione was quickly finding everything he did rather adorable.

It was a problem.

There were certainly bigger problems in her life, but the problem that she was attracted to her baby daddy was at least one she enjoyed fretting over. He was so pretty with his messy black curls that hung over his forehead and the thick square frame glasses. He had beauty marks that dotted his face and hands. She vaguely recalled that he had them all over and she really wanted to see them again.

It was a bad idea. One that she thought about frequently.

"I'm hungry," she told him and part of her almost hoped he caught her vague double-entendre.

James hummed and nodded.

She huffed and pulled his book down. Is this how others felt about her? James was finally dragged away from his reading and smiled down at her. "Can I help you?"

"I'm hungry," she told him as he put his book aside. She placed her hands on her round belly.

"Wanna pick something up?"

Hermione wrinkled her nose as she thought. "Cabbage soup and mashed potatoes."

James made a face and shook his head as he shivered in disgust. She laughed at his reaction. "What do you really want?"

She pursed her lips. "Cabbage soup and mashed potatoes!"

He raised an eyebrow at her. "I will make that, witch, and I'll make you eat it too."

Hermione sat up and sniffed. A scent caught her attention and she looked around. Her eyes lit up on the food truck she spotted. "Hot dogs!"

"Cabbage soup, mashed potatoes, and hot dogs?" James' lip curled.

Hermione gasped and turned back to him. "Can we?" He looked tortured at the thought. "Please? It's not for me. It's for the baby." She pressed a hand to her belly.

James glanced down at her stomach and couldn't help but smile. She was so beautiful. She looked so perfect with her curls and plump cheeks. Her big, round belly sent flutters through his whole body. He'd been searching for this witch for months and finding her still felt a little surreal. She was everything he'd dreamnt about and more. "You know, once the baby's born, you won't be able to use that line anymore."

Hermione smirked. "You say that like I don't have any other lines." He raised an eyebrow in amused challenge. Hermione's eyes widened and her lips pursed into a pout. "James, you have to make me cabbage soup and mashed potatoes with hotdogs in it because I'm the mother of your child."

He laughed at her smug little smirk. "Yeah, yeah you are." Before Hermione could say anything else, James leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her mouth. She froze as her eyes grew wide. James pulled back after a moment. "Sorry," he said, though he looked anything but. "I just couldn't hold back any longer."

"That's okay," she whispered.

"Is it?"

She nodded. Her fingers grasped the front of his shirt and she tugged. "Do it again."

James smiled. He leaned forward and cupped Hermione's face in his hands as he gently kissed her. Hermione sighed into his mouth. They sat together as they kissed in the park for a little while longer before Hermione's stomach growled.

"Food," she moaned.

"Alright, alright." He helped her to her feet and packed up their things. They bought some fish and chips for the walk home after Hermione's craving shifted. When they reached Hermione's flat, she sat down on the couch with a groan.

James joined her and pulled her feet into his lap. She leaned back and sighed happily as he began to massage her swollen feet. "I have something I need to talk to you about."

Hermione's eyes sprang open. She pinned him with a sharp look. "What's wrong?"

James made a pained face. "Nothing's wrong," he clarified. "I got a job offer the other day."

"A job?"

"It's for an internship to a healer who works in the area I want to go into. He's getting on in age and they want me to go on as his apprentice for a few years. I'd eventually take over."

"James, that's amazing. Congratulations." Her words fell flat between them. A tight ball of anxiety rose up within her.

He smiled tightly. "Thanks."

"Why do I feel like this opportunity isn't at St. Mungos?"

James sighed, confirming her fears. "It's in Germany."

"Germany?"

He nodded.

"You're… you're leaving?" She didn't even know what to do with that thought. But the war? What about the war? And Voldemort? She didn't want him to stay and die… She almost gasped when the realization of just how much she didn't want James to die hit her. He was the father of her baby. He wasn't allowed to die.

"Well, I'm not going anywhere unless you're… I'd like you to come with me."

Hermione blinked owlishly. "But the war?" she said, repeating her thoughts aloud.

His fingers tightened on her ankles. "Bugger the war. All I've ever wanted was to make sure my family was safe and I thought staying here and..." he trailed off. He was talking about the Order, she knew. Something she technically wasn't supposed to know about. He'd given up? she wondered. He no longer wanted to fight? Her thoughts swirled around her mind. Despite all the differences she'd noted in James compared to what she'd been told about him, one thing rang true and that was he didn't back down from fights - may it be verbal or otherwise. "I'd take my parents with us too."

Hermione's brows drew together. Her gut clenched. What on earth was happening that James felt compelled to run? Had he been planning to do so in the original timeline? No one had ever spoken about that, not as far as she could remember. "I don't… What aren't you telling me?"

He raised his eyebrows. "Probably about as much as you're not telling me."

Hermione pulled her feet out of his lap. She fixed him with a fierce glare. "What's going on? Are the other families okay? The other families expecting babies?"

James swallowed and looked down.

Hermione's heart dropped. Oh, no. Neville. Neville had to be okay. "James? Tell me!"

"There aren't… Hermione, there aren't any other families expecting babies. Not any that aren't opposing Him at least."

She felt like she was going to throw up. "But…" But that meant Neville… "Oh god!" Hermione leaned forward as she gasped for breath.

"Hermione!" James dropped to his knees before her. "Hermione?"

"No!" She shouted. Tears streamed down her cheeks. "It can't… not the baby. Not my baby." She wrapped her arms around the baby in her belly as she sobbed.

James froze. His fingers stopped short of touching her. Merlin's beard, she knew. She knew. How did she know? He swallowed, his throat tight. "Hermione, it's going to be okay." She shook her head. She was still crying. "It is. I promise you. He doesn't even know. He never will. We're going to pack up and leave. Is that what you want?" She nodded. "Then that's what we'll do."