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Chapter Text

12/01/2005~ Present

Six-year-old James Sirius Potter ran into his bedroom ahead of his father and leaped onto the bed bouncing and laughing. “I won!” 

Harry who hadn’t been aware a race was in the even in the making walked in and raised his brow. “I didn’t know we were racing.” 

“Yes, but, I won!” James bounced again for emphasis, his black hair sticking up in all directions from his recent bath. 

There were flashes of Hermione in James, his love for books and ability to remember every scrap of knowledge he came into contact with - even things you’d rather he forget. Like when Harry had accidentally cursed in front of him. But mostly James was a little replica of Harry— his features, his laugh, and much to his mother’s dismay his love of heights. 

Learning to be a father had been a hard somewhat frightening road for Harry. He wanted his son to have everything he didn’t, but how could he give James something he never had?

Harry smiled to himself, lucky he had his wife to help him. 

“Dad, dad, dad, dad!” 

“Yes, yes, yes, yes?” 

“I won.” 

Harry laughed. “Okay uh… congratulations then?” 

James looked at him like he was slow. “That means I get a story, dad.” 

“Ah.” Hermione was nine months pregnant and currently hibernating in their bed, she usually handled bedtime while Harry graded papers and then popped in to give James a good night kiss. “What book then?” 

“No, I want a real story.” 

“Okay.” He could do a real story. “Like a history story?” 

James laughed at him. “No, like like you and mum. Mum tells me stories of when I don’t remember.” 

“When I don’t remember…” Harry mouthed to himself. Okay. “What don’t you remember then?” 

James made a serious face as he thought about it, glancing around his room, before looking out the window. His face brightened. “I don’t remember my first Christmas!” 

Harry smiled. “Your first Christmas? That’s a good one.” 

“Tell me! Tell me!” 

“Shhhh.” Harry soothed James, gesturing for him to lie down and pulling up his covers. “Once upon a time….” 

12/25/1999

Small snowflakes twisted through the air and the moon’s brightness was reflected dimly in the snow, making the night seem brighter even without the Christmas decorations everywhere. Harry walked quietly up the stairs to Grimmauld, letting himself in at two in the morning on Christmas day. 

He tried to walk as quietly as possible not wanting to wake up Hermione or four-month-old James. Returning to work as an Auror had been more difficult than he anticipated. 

In his head when he thought about it, returning to the Auror office had seemed necessary.  Fenrir Greyback had escaped during transport to Azkaban shortly after his marriage to Hermione and Harry had been determined to catch him. 

What a way to show he’d be there for her, cutting their honeymoon short.  The idea of Greyback being free after his threats towards Hermione during the trial though had rattled Harry. He had to bring him back into custody immediately. 

He had spent Christmas eve disillusioned and huddled in an alleyway waiting alongside Ron to spring the trap they had set for Greyback. The fight had been short but vicious and he had barely escaped getting mauled by Greyback's long claws. Another close call and he hadn’t even told Hermione about the first one after he had gone back to work. 

He stopped abruptly in the living room, Hermione was sitting on a rocking chair with James asleep on her chest. He couldn’t make out her expression in the dim light, and he hoped it also hid the fact there were slashes in his Auror cloak that he had just thrown on the couch. 

“Hermione.” 

“Merry Christmas, Harry.”  He could see the curve of her lips as he came closer. 

He reached out to trail a hand lightly down James’ back. “How has he been?” 

“Sleeping longer through the night but he still wakes up frequently. He misses you.” Her voice was even, but guilt twisted his insides. 

“I’m sorry.” 

She moved as if she was going to stand and he reached for James’ to make it easier on her. He braced James’ little head, as Hermione stood and came close leaning against his side, watching as James woke up with a happy baby gurgle. 

“You don’t have to apologize to me, I know why you needed…” She trailed off before starting again. “I know why. James won’t remember that you were missing Christmas eve, or how much you’ve been gone the last couple of months. What are you going to tell him–”

“Wait, wait, wait dad.” James gave him an incredulous look. “You didn’t come home for Christmas eve? But that’s when we make wizard gingerbread!”

“I know, I was still figuring things out when you were small.”

James shook his head. “I’m glad you figured them out. That was so rude.” 

Harry choked on a laugh. “Sorry I was rude to your baby self? Do you want me to keep going or not?” 

“I guess I forgive you since I don’t remember and yes! Tell me!” 

12/25/1999

“I got him, Hermione. We recaptured Greyback, I helped them escort him directly to Azkaban.” 

 “Good.” 

She didn’t meet his eyes, hers were on James as he tried to look around the dim room. He swallowed hard. “I quit.” 

“What?” Her eyes flew to his, wide and questioning. 

“After I made sure he was locked up in Azkaban, I quit when I came back to the office. Robards tried to talk me out of it.”

Hermione’s mouth was half open and she didn’t say a word so Harry continued. “I want to make a difference in the world - make it better for James- but not by missing so much of his life. It was Greyback this time, but there’s always going to be another dark wizard – another investigation— and I remembered what you told me.” 

Hermione’s eyes filled with tears and he started talking faster. “I mean I can always go back, Robards was practically begging me. And um Ron quit with me, you know how he’s been with being James’ godfather and trying to help out his brother.  Then that thing with Ginny…” Harry paused.  “Are you mad at me?” 

“You crazy wizard, why would I be mad at you?” She threw her arms around him and James giving them a tight squeeze that made James fuss. 

“For not asking you what I should do before I quit- if you’re really upset I’m pretty sure Robards will–” 

“No! I’m so happy you quit! Let’s celebrate!”  She pulled back her face animated. “Although you do smell a bit rank.” 

“Eau de Alley not to your taste?” He asked teasing. 

“I quite like your normal smell, thanks. I have enough bad smells with this one’s nappies.” Hermione said affectionately and patted James on the bum. 

With the lights on and a few scourgifies, they had settled on the couch together before a newly stoked fire in the fireplace. When she had moved his Auror cloak off the couch Hermione had raised a brow at the holes and he had to sheepishly explain how close he had come to craving a bloody steak. 

James had settled back to sleep on his chest and his tiny hands were curled into his shirt. Hermione despite being enthusiastic just a few minutes ago had rested her head on his shoulder wrapping her hands around his arm and drifted off to sleep. Feeling their warm sleeping weight against him, the uncertainty he had when he had quit his job faded. 

They needed him to be there, and he would be from now on. The night he got the call from Robards on their honeymoon, Hermione hadn’t complained. She had hugged him, told him she loved him and to be safe. But right before he had left she had said his name and he turned back. 

She had been tousled and eight months pregnant. She had reached up to give him another hug whispering against his neck. “You know you’ve done enough battling dark wizards for a lifetime right?” 

“Hermione. I have to–he can’t be allowed to —” 

“I know.” She said quietly when he couldn’t articulate anything. “I’ll be waiting for you.” 

And she had been waiting, each time he came home and it became harder and harder to leave. When he had watched them march away Greyback into Azkaban, feeling the creep of despair from the proximity of the Dementors, he had realized she was right. He had done enough. Enough to earn his happily ever after. 

With his family. The family that had been his most fervent wish as a child. Harry promised himself he would never miss another important day. The best part of Christmas was family, and he would not be apart from them. 

“I love you, Dad.” James wiggled up to hug him. 

“I love you, too.” 

“Maybe the baby will be born by Christmas and we will be a biggest family.”

“Bigger.” 

James nodded against his neck his arms still tight around him and he patted his son’s back lightly. “Are you excited about your sister?” 

“Maybe.” 

“She’s excited about you.” 

“How do you know she’s in mum’s belly.” 

“Your dad’s right. Poppy Jane is very excited to meet you, James.” Hermione’s voice caused them both to jump and turn to see her standing in the doorway leaning against the frame. Her eyes were still sleepy and there was a crease on her cheek from the pillow cover still. 

“You didn’t have to get up, love, James was just about to go to sleep,” Harry told her as she came over while James settled back down on the bed again. 

“I need my bedtime kiss,” Hermione said as she leaned down to kiss James on the cheek.

“But mum how do you know she wants to meet me? How?” 

“I asked her of course.” 

James huffed. “She’s in your belly, she can’t talk.” 

“Hmm,” Hermione said with a mischievous smile. “Let’s see.” She picked up James' hand and put it right where she knew Poppy was resting. “Poppy are you very excited to meet your brother James?” 

There was a moment of stillness before a distinct kick made her stomach move. “She kicked me!” 

“That’s her answer, it means yes.” 

James narrowed his eyes at his mother suspiciously. “But what if she kicks all the time?” He put both hands on his mother’s stomach and put his mouth closer to make sure the baby heard. “P.J. do you want broccoli?” 

They all waited as the silence stretched and Hermione’s stomach remained still. Eventually, Harry laughed. “See! She’s excited.” 

James had a look of wonderment on his face. “She does want to meet me. Okay. I decided, please make sure she comes for Christmas, mum. You have twenty-four days left, okay?” 

“I’ll try baby.” 

They both kissed James before walking out and quietly shutting the door. Harry immediately backed his wife against the wall. “Now how did you manage that?” 

Hermione laughed. “She likes her name, James never uses it when he talks to her.” 

“You’ve been keeping this a secret haven’t you?” 

“I can’t help it if I’m smarter than you.” Hermione grinned at him as he knelt in front of her tummy testing out her statement. 

Sure enough when he said ‘Poppy’ there was almost always a slight movement, but ‘PJ’ elicited nothing. “So devious.” He said admiringly, getting back to his feet and kissing her. 

“I heard you telling James about his first Christmas.” 

“Mhmm. I had to leave out some of my favorite parts though.” 

“What do you mean?” 

Harry smirked at her tugging her back to their bedroom. “Come and let me remind you.” 

Chapter Text

12/02/2005~ Present 

In Hogsmeade, an ice skating rink had been created with spells to keep the ice firm and even with enchantments to keep landings soft and children from barreling into guard rails.   The air was filled with giggles and laughter as a few wizarding families took advantage of the smaller crowd on Friday afternoon before the weekend crush would descend. Harry was still at work in Hogwarts, wrapping up his classes for the coming weekend.  Hermione knelt before her son getting him ready along with Teddy to go out on the ice. 

“Mum, you know we’re supposed to wait for dad,”  James told her as she awkwardly laced up his ice skates around her pregnant tummy.  Hermione had never thought she had particularly short arms, she rather thought they were normal length, but she wished they were longer now so she could reach around her basketball-shaped tummy. 

“Your dad likes to think he is the boss, and we have to occasionally remind him that he is not the boss.” 

“You’re the boss?” 

Hermione opened her mouth and then closed it, thinking better of what she was going to say.  Which was that Harry still struggled with his overprotective instincts and she was not going to be put on some pillow because of it. Finally, she leaned back after her son’s laces were tied. “Your dad and I are partners and no one is the boss, we just disagree sometimes, and that’s perfectly okay.” 

Teddy who was sitting next to James with his laces already tied up on his own grinned at her. James would take her words at face value and move on, but Teddy was much more aware of everyone’s emotions than James. 

She shook her finger at both boys. “No crazy stuff, no jumping in the air or racing– well at least until Harry and Ron get here, then you can go crazy.” 

“Yes, mum.” 

“Yes, auntie.” 

Both boys replied in unison with innocent smiles. Hermione huffed a cold breath of hair but smiled back. She was glad she was having a girl next, there were entirely too many males in the family and they needed some balance! The ruby necklace Harry had given her when she repeated her seventh year at Hogwarts swung on her neck as she stood.  The Potter heirloom let Harry supplement her magic with his own during the latter half of her pregnancy when her own magic became problematic. She rubbed her belly with one hand while the other gestured for the kids to march out to the ice rink.  

They had come to the ice rink set up in Hogsmeade so they didn’t have to worry about any accidental magic from the kids. The older the children got, the more their magic responded to their wishes and fears.   Although both she and Harry practiced with the kids and made them aware their magic still slipped their hold occasionally. 

She was skating cautiously behind the boys when arms wrapped tight around her and she yelped. 

“Hermione.” Harry’s cold nose was buried in the side of her neck when he spoke causing him to sound a bit muffled. “Didn’t I tell you to wait for me?” 

“And I told you that I would wait until precisely five fifteen, which I did, and then we started. You know you get distracted if a student comes in for questions.” 

Harry's mouth pressed against her neck and she felt the nip of his teeth. He kept his arms tight around her as she wobbled in her ice skates, "I don’t like you ice skating while nine months pregnant without me.” 

She elbowed him. “You behave. I have my wand and —and— oh do stop doing that someone will see!” She laughed as he nuzzled her and his beard tickled her skin. 

“They’ll see a wizard happy he got his witch pregnant. I like that.” 

Her face turned a bit red but just as she was going to reply a yell cut through the air. 

“Oi! You two! There’s already a bun in the oven, no need for a public spectacle!” Ron Weasley skated confidently onto the ice as several other ice skaters laughed overhearing him. 

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him squinting and Ron doubled over with an overdramatic groan as a stinging jinx hit him in the stomach. “Don’t make me a public spectacle with your shouting!” 

Harry laughed enjoying the byplay. “Yeah, Ron don’t be a git.” 

“Godfather Ron!” James' excited shout made them turn as he skated toward them followed by Teddy. 

Ron got him and locked an arm around James' head playfully. “How is my favorite godson?” 

“I’m your only godson,” muttered James trying to get out of Ron’s hold. 

Teddy rolled his eyes. “I’m glad I have a normal godfather who doesn’t make me call him godfather.” 

“That’s because Harry’s not as cool as me,” Ron replied finally releasing Teddy.

Hermione looked over at Harry. “I told you to stop showing Ron muggle shows.” 

“It’s a classic?” Harry replied sheepishly ruffling his hair, one arm still protectively around Hermione. “Ron, why don’t you race the kids? You’re faster on the ice.” 

“Yeah! Race!” Both boys yelled excitedly as Ron puffed out his chest finally releasing James. 

“I suppose…” Ron trailed off before suddenly dashing away while the boys cried out. 

“No fair!”

“Cheater!” 

Hermione giggled turning to face Harry. “I could have sworn you were telling us both just last night how you were faster than Ron and would show us today…” 

“Eh. I decided I have more important things to do.” Harry pulled her as close as he could with her stomach creating distance between them. 

“Like what, Mr. Potter?” 

“Like kissing Mrs. Potter.” Harry leaned forward to finish what he had started before Ron interrupted, kissing the love of his life.

Chapter Text

12/03/2005~ Present 

Decorating while pregnant was a pain in the bum, Hermione thought as she did these weird rolling motions to try to get up off the sofa where she had sunk in like an anchor. 

There was a pop of sound that made Hermione and James look up, and they both saw Tilly, a house-elf from Hogwarts, pop in. 

“Tilly!” James cried, running up to give the little house-elf a hug. 

Tilly patted him on the back while giving Hermione a narrow-eyed stare while she put a stack of reports on the coffee table. “I thought yous were going to wait for Tilly to start, yous are going to roll off the sofa and Professor Potter will be grumpy all week!’ She snapped her fingers and a gentle push of magic helped Hermione stand with the ribbons she had been braiding for a wreath. 

“Who is going to roll off the sofa?” Harry called, walking from the kitchen where he had been preparing a light lunch. 

“James.” 

“Mum.” 

“The missus.” 

Three different answers came from them, and Harry turned toward his stubborn wife. “Were you this stubborn last time you were pregnant?” 

“Last time I didn’t even know if–” Hermione cut herself off as she realized she had two wide inquisitive eyes on her from both Tilly and James. 

“Didn’t know what?” James asked. 

Tilly plopped down, her velvet red Christmas dress flaring out a little as she reached for some of the snack mix set out on the table beside the paperwork she had placed there. “Yes, Missus, what didn’t you know?” 

“This is not story time–this is decorating time! Your dad still has almost two weeks before his holiday break starts, and we need to get as much done as possible during the weekend.” Hermione shook her finger at both sets of inquisitive eyes. “Thank you so much for bringing me the reports today, Tilly, and how is Winky doing?” 

“Winky is as Winky does.” Tilly shrugged. 

Harry reached out to grab Hermione’s hand and twine his fingers comfortingly in hers. Hermione had never given up on trying to make wizarding society more equitable for magical beings and others who were marginalized.  

Hermione getting pregnant unexpectedly as she retook her seventh year at Hogwarts had derailed quite a few of her post-education plans. She had never been one to back away from a challenge though and gamely reworked her strategy to improve wizarding society. 

After holding James for the first time, Hermione realized she didn’t want to devote the hours and hours she would have needed to climb the top of the Ministry. Even with Harry willing to support her, she would have missed so much time with James. 

Instead, Hermione had grown SPEW and changed it into SPEAR, the Society for the Promotion of Equality and Advancement of Rights–an organization that fought for all those marginalized, including muggle-borns who still struggled even after a war had been won against their oppressors. Hermione had briefly considered the Society of Promotion of Equality for the Rights of Magicals, however, Harry and Ron had quite vehemently rejected that idea. 

Now she had her own headquarters with lobbyists that specialized on each voter within the Wizengamot. Harry liked to tease her that she was the unelected Minister of Magic. Much of the information they used to persuade and lobby for improved laws came from house elves. The report Tilly had brought was from house elves working in Ministry and was vital so that Hermione knew who to focus on as she pushed for stronger employment protections for witches and wizards infected with lycanthropy. 

“Make sure Winky knows she’s welcome to visit us, okay? And thank you so much Tilly, this information will definitely get us the votes we need.” 

Tilly smirked. “All us house-elves likes you much better now that you don’t make us ugly knitted socks.” 

Harry coughed, trying to cover a laugh while Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Mum, you tried to knit?” James looked incredulous. 

“I am perfectly capable of being creative!” Hermione stomped her foot for emphasis while the three of them grinned at her.  

Harry pulled her close,” Of course you are, the bestest most creative ever.” 

“Ew, they’re going to be mushy now,” James muttered to Tilly.

Chapter Text

December 4, 2005 

“Mum, remember Mum, when I got a wizard cracker about you?” James asked as he cuddled on his bed between his parents as they spent some time with him before bedtime. They were all dressed in their pajamas and sleepy from a full day. 

Hermione’s nose wrinkled as she recalled that year. “I remember having a talk with some Weasleys about that. It was not funny.” 

“I think the house elves at Hogwarts have it framed.” Harry teased. 

“Tilly says all the house elves say it now.” James paused before cuddling closer to his mother. “What happens to house elves when they are naughty?” 

Hermione groaned while Harry finished the joke. “Hermione Granger knits them a sock.” 

“I told Ron he had to find them and destroy them all personally or I would tell his mother.” 

“Nana Weasley? But she’s ever so nice.” James looked a bit confused. 

Hermione gave Harry a sleepy smile, both remembering howlers Ron used to get at Hogwarts. “She is.” Hermione agreed, leaving it at that. “What about that one about you? I thought your students got a kick out of it.” 

Now Harry looked disgruntled while James and Hermione said in unison,” Why was Harry Potter on Santa’s naughty list?” 

“Because he teaches cursing.” Harry finished in a mumble while the other two giggled at him. 

“Weasley Wizard Crackers are definitely loads better than Cribbage’s,” James said with a yawn.

Hermione curled her arm around James, nuzzling him closer. “Harry, don’t let me forget to order some. You know how they run out closer to Christmas.”  

“Mhmm.” He agreed, watching them fall asleep. Hermione’s hair was tied back in a long braid, with little curls escaping hanging over her shoulder. James was at a strange angle only children seemed to be able to fall asleep in, curled around his mother awkwardly to allow room for her belly. 

Looking at them, his chest seemed to constrict as if there was a band around it squeezing him. When Hermione had been pregnant for the first time, he struggled with so many different fears. That she wouldn’t choose to stay with him, that he wouldn’t be a good father–that something terrible would happen. 

The part of him that constantly braced for danger and tragedy had faded as the years passed, but as Hermione progressed in her second pregnancy, they seemed to be reawakening a little bit. 

His hand twitched as he thought about his wand on the dresser in their bedroom. Maybe he should get up and check on all the wards–

Harry was brought out of his slightly panicked introspection as a warm hand grabbed his and he met Hermione’s drowsy gaze. “Hey.” Her fingers moved, tangling with his own. “Everything’s going to be okay.” 

“You promise?” He whispered so as not to wake up James.

Hermione’s pinky finger hooked onto his. “I promise.” Carefully she shifted backward on the bed, letting go of Harry’s hand so they could go to their own bed. 

Harry got up and followed her wordlessly, entering their dark bedroom behind her and spooning her from behind as she got comfortable in bed. The silence stretched, and he thought she had fallen asleep again when she asked him in a serious voice,” How did Tom Riddle like his Christmas turkey?” 

He was instantly distracted. “What! No, they didn’t!” 

“They did.” 

“Molly definitely doesn’t know about that one.” 

“Definitely not, as they’re still alive.” 

“Okay, how?” Harry asked, unable to resist. 

“On the dark side.” She giggled as she drifted off to sleep while Harry groaned.

Chapter Text

Hermione rolled up the sleeves of her sweater she had nicked from her husband as she bent over her desk at SPEAR headquarters. One of the house elves at the Ministry had managed to overhear some juicy gossip regarding the newly married Daphne Greengrass and Theodore Nott. The newly wedded couple had apparently invited Blaise Zabini for their wedding night. 

“Slytherins.” She muttered rather fondly. They made it so easy to persuade (blackmail) them. Theodore Nott had a seat in the Wizengamot, was not fond of werewolves, and voted against any protections for those infected.  

She dipped her quill with satisfaction as she began a carefully worded note to let Theodore Nott know the consequences should he decide to vote against the latest round of legislation. 

“Mrs. Hermione—” Her assistant Coral began.

“Wait Coral wait, I need to word this carefully—”

“Who are you threatening now love?” 

Hermione laughed, pushing back her curls and looking up to meet Harry’s gaze. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be in class?” 

“Potion spill in the corridor managed to merge most first- and second-floor levels.” 

Hermione’s eyes widened. “Intriguing. It even ate through the protective enchantments?” 

Harry nodded. “Like they didn’t exist.” 

“Hmm.  I’d like to speak to them.” Hermione was always on the lookout for promising young potioneers to recruit into Malfoy's potion-making corporation.  Malfoys attempts to make penance for his actions during the war had taken on quite a new depth once he and Ginny had straightened their relationship out. Nothing motivated a man like trying to please his wife and Malfoy's corporation had been extremely helpful to Hermione as she tried to make wolfsbane more widely available. 

“I thought so. I already talked to them about their potion and they are extremely excited to speak to you.” 

Hermione jumped up with a happy squeal. “Ah, you’re the best!” 

Harry opened his arms with a smile, giving her a kiss. 

Coral cleared her throat when the kiss continued, with no signs of stopping. Hermione and Harry broke apart slowly, their eyes still locked together. 

“Hmph. Mrs. Hermione and Mr. Harry don’t need to wear matching clothes to let peoples know they are in love. Yous already share matching lipstick.” 

Hermione rubbed her thumb over Harry’s lips with satisfaction, removing the small tint that had transferred to his lips. 

“I wondered where all my sweaters were disappearing to.” He said, looking down and finally noticing they were matching—both wearing his monogrammed sweaters.

“I can’t help it. It’s your fault.” 

“What? Why?” 

“You married me and gave me the same initials.” Hermione finished rubbing off her lipstick and wrapped her arms around his neck. 

“Ah. I guess since I love it when you wear my initials, I was really smart about that.” 

Hermione caressed the back of his neck and leaned close, whispering. “Maybe tonight I’ll wear your quidditch jersey.” 

Coral looked at her employer and her husband, whose faces were stuck together again. “Oh, Merlin.” She muttered and walked out, closing the door behind her with a wave of her hand. The way they carried on it would make a house elf think that they hadn’t been married for years already! 

Chapter Text

Harry and James stood next to each other, watching through the back window as Hermione paced in their backyard in the fading afternoon light. Her head was bent downward as she watched her feet as she paced, her hands rubbing her pregnant belly. 

“We shouldn’t go, dad.” 

“It’s important to your mum.” 

“I don’t care, mum always gets sad when we do this. I don’t like it.”

“Sometimes it’s not just about the destination, James, it's about the journey.” 

James screwed up his little six-year-old face at his dad. “No,” he said patiently. “That’s dumb. It makes mum sad so we shouldn’t do it.” 

Harry squeezed his son, ruffling his hair. “We just have to show her how much we love her, so she’s happy then, right? Stay here while I go talk to your mum before the car gets delivered.” 

“Fine,” James muttered glumly staring at his mother. 

Harry went outside, casting warming charms at his wife as he walked up to her. Hermione turned toward him as she felt the warm splash of his magic. 

After so many years of trying, her face was serene despite the sadness. “Thanks, honey.” 

“Mhmm. How are you feeling?” Harry reached out and tucked back a stray curl that had blown forward in the chill December breeze. 

Hermione clasped her hands around her stomach. “I’m good.” She nodded, trying to convince herself and Harry. “I’m good.” 

“The car is here.” Harry leaned forward and kissed her forehead softly. “I love you.” 

“You and James don’t have to come you know. I can go by myself.” 

“Crazy witch. I’m always going to be by your side. And I think James is going to start sabotaging these outings, he can’t stand to see you unhappy either.” 

“I just–I just—” Hermione fumbled for an explanation and Harry shook his head. 

“You don’t need to explain it to me. It’s okay.” He held out his elbow to her, and she curled her arm in his as he led her back into the house, where they gathered their things to leave. 

Harry settled James in the rear seat with a booster so that the seatbelt fit snuggly over his shoulder, then double-checked the boot to make sure their portkeys back were secure along with his surprise for his wife. 

When he climbed behind the wheel, he put on Christmas music and reached for Hermione’s hand while he used the other to drive. Harry was comfortable driving after so many years of practice. 

Hermione’s hand was laced tightly with his as she looked out the window at the passing wintry scenery. They made road trips regularly to her parent's house a few hours away from where they had purchased their own country house. 

Mr. and Mrs. Granger had not taken to being obliviated and then regaining their memories to find their daughter married and with a baby. Harry hadn’t known the depths of anger he could feel until he saw the look on his wife’s face as her parents yelled at her for her actions.  

August 28th, 2000

The sitting room of Hermione parent's house was quiet except for the sound of the occupants harsh breathing. Hermione’s chin trembled faintly as one-year-old James wrapped his arms tightly around her neck. “I’m sorry–the war—”

“How do we know you aren’t lying—” Her mother was cut off as the door to the sitting room slammed open. 

They looked as Harry strode inside, his cloak flaring slightly with the quickness of his steps as he stood in front of his wife. “You should know her better if you can’t tell!” 

“Harry,” Hermione said quietly tugging on his cloak, trying to get his attention. “I needed you to wait outside while I talked to them privately…” 

“No,” Harry said, not turning around to face her, glaring at her parents. “No! They don’t understand what you went through to protect them or they wouldn’t be speaking to you this way. Do you know how many people died in the war she fought in? Do you know I would have died without her?” 

“And who are you exactly? We’ve never met you. We’ve only heard about you and now - who even knows if those memories are reliable?” Her father asked, his face set. 

Her mother stepped next to him, putting her arm around his waist. “We still don’t really  remember everything. I barely recognize you—because of what you did to our memories–I remember you as a fourteen-year-old and now you’re telling me you’re married with a baby? How do we know this isn’t another magic trick? How do we know this is real?”

“It’s my fault—not hers—your memories—her pregnancy — this is my responsibility. She loves you and only tried to protect you.” Harry finally stepped to the side, his arm curving protectively around his wife and child. “She doesn’t deserve to be made to feel this way.” 

“It is your fault,” her father agreed. “It’s you and that magical world that did this to her - pregnant at eighteen? That’s not the Hermione I raised. That’s not how my daughter would behave! Stealing her parents' memories? No, you have done something to her and we want no further part of it.” 

Hermione made a choked sound and Harry’s jaw tightened. When he spoke, his words were gritted between his teeth. He was so angry. “Your daughter is going to forgive you for the way you’re acting, and maybe I should, too, but I won’t.” 

And with that, Harry apparated his family home. 

Present 

It had taken Hermione’s parents another year before they began to try to make peace with her, still blaming magic. They had forbidden magic near them or their home, and so any time they wanted to visit her parents' house they made a show of pulling up to their house like normal muggles in a car they rented. Then during the visit Hermione carefully made sure no hint of magic was shown or talked about. 

Harry glanced briefly in the rearview mirror and met his son’s sullen gaze. James hated when his mother was upset just as much as Harry did. However, Hermione was incredibly stubborn on the issue and determined to make peace with her parents. 

The drive to her parent's house was always one that was too long and too short at the same time.  The small family pulled up to a well-appointed house before any of the occupants in the car were ready. 

“Stay in the car for a minute, son, okay?” Harry asked, and James nodded, still in his sulk. 

Harry went around and helped Hermione out first as she had trouble getting to her feet with her balance thrown off by the baby. She stepped out, and he shut the door behind her, giving them privacy from their son’s large ears. 

Harry braced his hands on either side of the car, staring down into his wife's eyes. “Tell me again why I let you do this to yourself.” 

“Because you can’t stop me.” 

He thought about it and then shook his head. “Nope, I think I could manage it.” 

“Because I want to.” 

“You wanted those hot chicken wings too, and I took those away from you.” 

“Pfft. I could have handled the heartburn! There’s a potion for that!” Harry’s smile didn’t reach his eyes and Hermione reached up to stroke his cheek. “Because you love me.” 

There was a glitter in his eyes as he looked at her. “Without end.” 

Hermione breathed deep, her shoulders going back, and she moved to kiss him. Her lips pressed softly against his as she repeated his words. “Without end.” 

He pulled back, clearing his throat. “Alright then, let's go have fun at the in-laws.” 

Chapter Text

The visit yesterday had been hard on Hermione. She was quieter as she helped finish decorating the Christmas tree. Both Harry and James were worried about her, she knew, but she was fine, just a little sad. She had known when she had obliviated her parents so many years ago that she was stealing away their right to make a choice. She had expected anger, but childishly—naively she had thought—-

Hermione cleared her throat, cutting off that thought and trying to focus on the partially decorated tree. Christmas was just around the corner and they had been unforgivably slow at putting up the decorations. Harry hadn’t even tried to persuade her to use magic to finish up the decorations, as he knew how she felt. There was something that brought home the spirit of Christmas when you hung up the decorations by hand.  

James was already in bed, asleep early after his half day at primary and then the visit with his grandparents yesterday. Hermione couldn’t sleep though, even though she felt exhausted, her movements slow. 

Poppy rolled over in her tummy and Hermione paused, her hands going to her stomach. Her daughter. 

“Are you okay? Do we need to go to the healer?” Harry was watching her carefully, as always.

When she had been younger and dumber, she had thought Harry would grow out of it, as the war became more distant. She shook her head at him trying to give him a smile that would take away his worry. “I’m good. Poppy was just saying hi to me.” 

She turned back to the tree, carefully hanging ornaments, knowing Harry was still watching her. He was moving quicker, hanging up ornaments to trying to help her finish so he could hustle her to bed. 

The tree sparkled with little magical touches, despite her insistence on hanging up the ornaments the muggle way. Little enchanted reindeer played amongst the branches, jumping around and hiding amongst the heavily decorated greenery. 

Hermione reached into the ornament box and noticed it was empty. She looked up to see Harry grin at her. “All done, love.” 

“Maybe wearing your jersey last night encouraged your speed too much.” 

Harry smirked at her. “There is no such thing as too much encouragement. Besides, I saved the last for you.” 

Harry stood up, holding the star for the top of the Christmas tree, and helped Hermione stand next to him. He handed her the star and then placed his hands on her hips. She heard the soft whisper of the spell before his magic wrapped gently around her. He lifted her easily, and she stretched, placing the star perfectly on top of their magical Christmas tree.

Harry let her slide slowly down until her feet gently touched the floor. Hermione leaned back against him to survey their work as Harry’s arms slid around her. “Your wandless magic is so good now.” 

“I can help you with yours?” 

Hermione shook her head. “I’m too busy with SPEAR. A fifth year could probably disarm me.” 

“No one is going to disarm you.” Harry’s head lowered to kiss the curve of her neck. “Let’s go to bed Hermione, you haven’t been resting as much as you should.” 

“I can’t sleep.” She replied grumpily. 

“I can help you with that.” 

“Harry-” She cut off with a yelp as he swept her up into his arms, carrying her to their room.

Harry sat her carefully on the edge of the bed,” Don’t move.” 

Hermione gave a soft laugh as she watched him walk about the room, gathering her clothes. He laid her pajamas carefully beside her before grabbing the tail of her shirt to pull it over her head. “Harry, you crazy wizard, I can dress–or undress–myself. Being pregnant does not mean—” 

“Yes, I know. You’re just as capable, smart, and bloody beautiful as ever. Can’t you have pity on your poor husband, though, and let me help you a bit?” 

Hermione tried not to smile at him, but resisting was impossible. “Your wandless magic isn’t the only skill you’ve improved. You have become way too smooth talking for my peace of mind.”

“I need all the advantages possible when it comes to you.” 

She made a disbelieving sound as Harry helped her up, changing her into her favorite comfort pajama pants. He turned off the lights and climbed into bed beside her, his hand caressing her soothingly. 

“I’m not that hard to deal with,” Hermione whispered. 

“Honey, I believe Coral told me you are in the process of covertly blackmailing no less than seven members of the Wizenmagot, and at the age of twenty-six you have built an organization that some refer to as another part of the government with just as much power as the sacred twenty eight or the minister himself.” Harry paused when Hermione muttered something too quiet for him to hear. “What was that?” 

“It’s ten now.” She said sheepishly.

Harry chuckled, his hand spreading on her belly as Poppy seemed to push against his hand in reaction to the voices of her parents. “You’ve never been easygoing, Hermione, and I wouldn’t want you any other way. I love you and the life we’ve built together.” 

“Would you change that about me if you could?” 

Harry sighed, pulling her closer, his arms tightening around her. “There’s nothing about you I would change. I would change the world so you’d stop hurting your stubborn heart. I’d rewire those bigoted arseholes so you didn’t have to fight every day and resort to blackmail just to secure justice.” His voice lowered, his whisper soft against her shoulder. “I’d make your parents forgive you.” 

“They have a right–” 

“I’m not saying they don’t have the right to be angry. I’m saying they’re wrong. Wrong.” Anger burned in his soft words. 

“Harry.” 

His hand slid along her forearm, his fingers running along the ridge of the scar she still carried. “They don’t have the right to hurt you like that if they weren’t–” He cut himself off. 

Hermione reached up to kiss him. “You know you have kind of a savior complex.” 

“Sort of my thing. Like expelliarmus.” 

“Uh-huh.” 

“Would you change that about me if you could?” He repeated her question back to her. 

“Silly wizard, you don’t mess with perfection.”

Chapter Text

Harry stood in front of the class with his hands clasped behind his back, wearing a very similar to the jumper his wife had nicked a few days ago.  His cloak was thrown over his desk and his sleeves were pushed up while he lectured about the less-known long-term impacts of a dementor’s area of effect. 

A hand shot up and the little girl leaned forward slightly as she waved her hand in the air as if Harry was blind or an extremely long way off. Harry smiled at her, she reminded him of Hermione. “Yes, Roslyn?” 

“I read in the Prophet that the ICW is threatening to sanction us for their use in Azkaban, no other country in the world houses their prisoners as we do.”  

“That’s very true, it's a very complex problem–” Harry cut off when the door to his classroom swung wide, banging against the wall. 

Ron and James walked into Harry’s third-period Defense Against the Dark Arts, Ron’s eyes met his, and Harry felt a zing of fear. 

“Ron–” 

“Dad! Mum isn’t feeling well!” James didn’t stop until his arms were wrapped around Harry’s waist. He put a comforting hand on James' back and looked up at his class. “Behave while I’m gone.” He said in a stern voice, then waved his wand. “Expecto Patronum.” 

The class gasped as his stag Patronus pranced up to him tossing its head. “Minnie, I have to go, Hermione isn’t feeling well. As soon as I know more I’ll send you an update.” 

“Ready?” Ron asked. 

“Ready,” Harry said, then muttered to himself. “She did it to me again .” 

Ron grabbed onto him and James and with a crack they apparated to St Mungo's, James’ hand twined tightly with his own. They hadn’t taken more than a few steps when a pregnant Ginny Malfoy came up to them. “She collapsed during the monthly potion delivery and we brought her here immediately, I think–” Ginny’s voice quavered and her hands came up protectively on her own child. 

“She’s going to be fine.” Their eyes turned to the wizard walking up, pale but composed.  Draco walked up behind his wife, close behind her but not touching. “Molly and Arthur are on the third-floor waiting room, she’s already been admitted to room thirty-four.”  

Harry nodded briefly to the couple, walking past quickly with James held close. As soon as Molly and Arthur saw them approaching they stood up and Molly held out her arms for James. “Come give Nona a hug, Jamie.” 

James gave him a brief look as if to make sure Harry was okay before running into Molly’s grandmotherly embrace. She rubbed his back soothingly. “Your mum’s fine, honey, just likes to overdo it a bit when she should rest more.” 

Arthur met Harry’s eyes in empathy. “The healer wouldn’t tell us much just that she’s okay.” 

“James, stay here with Nona and Grandad, okay?” 

James pulled back quickly from Molly giving a stubborn look at his father. “No! I’m going in too.” 

“James-” Harry began already feeling the prickles of impatience on the back of his neck. He needed to get into see Hermione. He tried to regulate his breathing so he didn’t make a high-stress situation worse for his son. 

“Jamie, stay with me while your dad goes in okay?” Ron asked as he came up, his gaze meeting his godson. 

It irritated him just a little bit that Ron seemed to have the golden touch as far as persuading his son, but he couldn’t complain when it worked in his favor. James sucked in a breath before nodding grudgingly. Ron moved around to the other side of the group standing near his parents and put a hand on James' shoulder, squeezing it briefly as if to brace him while Harry left. 

“I’ll be back out in a minute.” He promised his son reaching out to ruffle his hair before turning away from the group to walk toward his wife’s room. 

When Harry entered Hermione was laying flat while a healer waved their wand, diagnostic spells spinning above her.  Hermione’s hand came up reaching for him and he grasped it as he came by her bedside. “What happened? What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing-” 

“Psh.” Scoffed the healer on the otherwise and Hermione glared at her. “Her vital readings tell me that she hadn’t been resting as she should and is under too much stress.” 

Harry met his wife’s eyes briefly but kept his mouth shut, he had a lot of things to say about that, but now wasn’t the time. “Are you discharging her soon?” 

The healer's eyebrows rose at Hermione silently asking if she wanted to be the one to tell her husband. Hermione admitted a little sheepishly, “My water broke when I fell and since I’m already so close to the due date they are inducing me. We’re going to be leaving with a daughter.” 

Bloody hell. Harry leaned over to kiss his wife. “I’m going to start working on a bubble wrap charm immediately.” 

“I don’t need to be in bubble wrap–”

“Oh, I know. I need you to be in bubble wrap!”

Chapter Text

Hermione sat sitting up holding her new daughter Poppy, while James snuggled close to her watching his little sister sleep intently. They were trying to be quiet as Harry had passed out on the chair near them, not having slept since yesterday when Ron and James had gotten him from Hogwarts. 

Little frown lines appeared briefly on Poppy’s forehead and James reached out tentatively and softly ran his finger along her small chubby cheek.  The baby squirmed and smiled before settling down to sleep again.  Her black hair stuck up haphazardly despite Hermione's efforts to smooth it down.  Apparently, all her children would have Harry's wild black hair.  Absolutely beautiful. 

“Mum,” James whispered. 

“Mhmm?” 

“What if she doesn’t have magic?” 

“Why would you ask such a thing?” 

James didn’t look at his mum as he answered, his gaze not wavering from his sleeping sister's face. “One time when I was waiting for dad at Hogwarts I heard some of the kids talking, and he said his sister couldn’t go because she was born without magic.” 

“Jamie.” 

James finally looked at his mum, blinking his eyes rapidly, trying not to show how distressed he was by his worry. 

“Would you love me less if I didn’t have magic?” 

“No!” James answered loudly then looked quickly to where his father still slept before lowering his voice. “I just-I just don’t want her to feel different, to be different than all of us.” 

“Hmm,” Hermione said thoughtfully. “Have you ever heard of the little wizard Nereus?” 

James shook his head and Hermione continued, “Little Nereus lived in a wizarding village filled with magic, and one day as he was chasing garden gnomes out of his garden he met a girl named Rose.”

“That’s a flower, like Poppy!” 

“That’s right. Nereus found out that Rose didn’t have magic to help her. He spent days and days with Rose learning about how she did things without magic and helping her. Some things were harder without magic, Nereus didn’t like cleaning and fetching water.”

James had begun to frown as soon as Hermione said Rose didn’t have magic and the mention of cleaning made him make a face, he didn’t like cleaning his room and couldn’t wait until he could use magic on his own. “But Rose was different from other girls Nereus had met, not just because she couldn’t do magic. She didn’t ask him questions like ‘what spells do you know?’ Or  ‘what’s your family name?’  Instead Rose asked him ‘what games did he love best?’ Or what his favorite smell was.”

Hermione raised her eyebrows at her son, prompting him to answer. 

“I like the way the zoo smells,” James admitted bashfully, his face turning a little red.  “I know it's not a good smell, but it reminds me of having fun.” 

Hermione smiled and kissed the top of his head before continuing. “One day a group of wizards were going to travel the world on their broomsticks and they invited Nereus to go with them.  It was an adventure, they would find new spells and magicks, and become more powerful.  Nereus was too afraid to tell Rose goodbye, he didn’t know what he would do if she asked him not to go because he wanted to go very badly. So he snuck away at night.”  

“I wouldn’t be afraid,” James muttered. "I'd just tell her." 

“When Nereus traveled he met many muggles, but none were like Rose.  One of his wizard friends who traveled with Nereus told him," One muggle is the same as any other muggle, why do you keep talking to them?”   

“And that's when Nereus realized that no matter how far he traveled or who he met, none would be the same as Rose, because she was his friend.  They had learned from each other and had experiences that only they shared.  Rose was different than any other person in the world- muggle or magical. So he went home.”

Hermione paused, and James shifted anxiously. “Yes and then?” 

“Nereus hadn’t realized how much time had passed since he went on his adventure.  The town he grew up in was very different and Rose was no longer there. Nereus went to where he used to sit with her and cried, missing her. His wizard friend found him and sat near him, trying to comfort Nereus. He told him," Nereus, you've learned so many spells and become so much more powerful! Wasn't it worth it?"

“Nereus told him, 'Even though to you Rose is nothing more than a muggle-- just like a hundred thousand other muggles.  To me, she's unique in all the world.' Nereus had learned that what is essential to him was impossible to obtain with magic.  The love of his friend.” 

James frowned at her. “Mum that’s a horrible story!” 

“It’s a lesson.” 

“That Nereus was stupid!” James was outraged at the ending. 

“That he didn’t value his friend and it didn't matter she that didn't have magic.” They both turned to see Harry stretching.  He reached out with his hand to lay it along Hermione’s arm, which curved around James. “Your mum’s my best friend. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for her.” 

“Fine friends are important, more important than magic. But I still want Poppy to have magic.” James answered sulkily. 

“Would you love her less if she didn’t?” Harry asked. 

James looked at him like he was dumb. “Of course not! She’s my sister.” 

“Then it doesn’t matter, we’re a family no matter what.” 

“Okay. And if someone messes with her, we kick their arse.” James negotiated. 

“James!” Hermione admonished. 

Harry nodded. “Deal.” 

“Harry!” 

“Yes, love?” 

“Behave.” 

“As you wish.” Harry winked at her.

Chapter Text

Harry groaned as he flopped into bed next to Hermione, Christmas music softly drifting through the house. 

“I hate Christmas music.” 

“Lies, I’ve heard you singing along to it.” 

“Don’t confuse me breaking under torture with liking it.” 

Hermione laughed, looking over at Harry with his face buried in the pillow. “Weren’t you the one who bought Molly Celestina Warbeck’s Christmas Special?”

“I did that to torture Ron. He’s been over there a lot helping Arthur fix some of the wardings keeping the structure in place.” 

Hermione’s eyes widened as she thought of the precariously balanced Burrow. “I thought those types of things were permanently charmed?” 

“George is getting some contractors in to give Molly a bigger kitchen, but their wards are so old that it only lets family members make changes to the construction. The first contractor tried to start stripping the wall and got blasted off the property.” 

A giggle escaped before Hermione could control it and put on a concerned expression. “Oh dear, was he okay?” 

Harry lifted his head to smirk at her, “I heard that, Mrs Potter. But yes they were fine, just some adjustments needed so they can complete the work.” 

Hermione ran her fingertip studiously along the sheet near where Harry’s arm lay. “So you bought it to torment Ron, huh?” 

“Yeah.” 

At that moment, the song ended and Celestina Warbeck's number-one hit started thrumming through the house. 

🎵You think you're quite the wizard , got me under your spell ,🎵

“No!” Harry gasped looking at Hermione. 

Hermione started giggling uncontrollably. 

🎵But guess what, Mister Wizard, you don't know me so well

You thought you were so clever, but, in truth, you're a crook

And no way you're gettin' away with all the things that you took🎵

“I wondered why Ron was so insistent on giving me this, he knows this isn’t my kind of music, but he really wanted us to relax on our first night back with the baby.” 

🎵Oh, sure, you're quite the dancer, swept me off of my feet

But back here on the ground, I see a liar and cheat

And when you disappeared at first it's me who I blamed

But now I see you're wicked as He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named🎵

“ARGH!” Harry rolled off the bed hitting the floor with a thunk. “That dirty rotten git, I’m going to get him for this.” 

Hermione carefully moved over to see him sprawled out on the floor near the bed. “Didn’t you start it by giving Molly the Christmas special?” 

Harry lifted his hand and pointed at her without lifting his head. “You’re my wife —you’re supposed to be on my side!” 

She grinned down at him. “Okay then. How are we getting that dirty rotten git back? Make him change a dirty diaper?” 

Harry froze for a second, before getting up to his knees and coming closer to the bed to pull her down for a kiss. “Have I ever told you that you have the most wicked mind?” 

Hermione smiled against his lips. “Not recently.” 

“I am so, so sorry for that oversight, my love. Let me fix it right away.” 

Chapter Text

James shifted uncomfortably in his little formal robes, tugging at the bow. 

“Don’t undo it, or your Dad will have to fix it this time, I’m trying to get these stockings on Poppy,” Hermione said looking back to the tiny little legs she was trying to get the delicate material up. 

“I don’t see why we have to go take special pictures and get dressed up in these fancy clothes, no one really dresses like this.” 

“We’re taking family pictures, Jamie. You’ll appreciate them when you’re older.” 

“I bet dad never had to do this stuff when he was little.” 

Hermione laughed softly, reaching for her wand to repair a tiny run in the baby stockings. “Oh yes, he did. Why don’t you go find him and pull him away from his papers? It’s almost time to go, anyway.” 

James turned away with a huff, stomping down the stairs to his father’s office, where his dad was bent over a desk, glasses perched low over his nose, trying to read some scribbles on parchment. 

“What’s wrong Jamie?” Harry asked without looking up.

“How did you know it was me?” 

“Your stomping feet is a sound I’m very familiar with.” 

Jamie ignored that. “Mum said that you had to get dressed in fancy robes too when you were little, but you told me that you always dressed in Uncle Dudley’s old things, so I don’t think–” 

Harry looked up with a grin, cutting him off. “I did. You know your mother is always right.” 

“Hmph. When?” 

“Hmm. I think maybe the first time was the Yule Ball.” 

“What’s that?” 

“It’s a ball held during Christmas at Hogwarts when there’s a Triwizard Tournament.” 

Jamie looked vaguely interested, so Harry took the opportunity to distract him so he could finish grading his papers. “That notebook has pictures if you want to see.” 

Jamie wandered over to the bookshelf while his father bent down over his paperwork, pulling out the heavy notebook and beginning to flip through it. 

Most of the pictures were newspaper clippings until he stumbled across a picture of his mother smiling up at and twirling around with Viktor Krum. 

“Mum danced with Viktor Krum!?” 

“Your mum went to the ball with him,” Harry muttered not looking up. 

“So she went from a famous quidditch player to you?” 

“ Oi !”

Chapter Text

James Sirius Potter wandered into his father’s study to find Harry with several wrapped presents on his desk, carefully etching runes into a sheet of parchment. When Harry was done, an envelope was laid next to it ready for the letter. 

“What are you doing?” James asked. 

Harry didn’t look up from where he was carefully etching Draco Lucius Malfoy’s name into the complicated curse on the parchment. “Teaching someone a lesson.” 

“What kind of lesson?” James asked, peeking closer at the strange runic script. 

“That they shouldn’t send secret admirer gifts to your mother.” 

“Why are they sending secret admirer gifts to mum?” 

“Probably some idiotic way to try to curry favor, since your mother is blackmailing the lot of them.” 

James counted the gifts on the table under his breath. “Wow, mum is blackmailing a lot of people. But what about that one? That’s weird. Who would send an advent calendar this late in the month?” 

“Ah, that’s your godfather Ron.” 

“Uncle Ron sent mum a secret admirer advent calendar? But why?” 

Harry looked up at his son, thinking about last year's annual war memorial when a particularly pretty, particularly rabid fan had been after him and he fed the crazed woman Ron’s number as a distraction. Ron had not been happy with him.  “To get on my nerves.” 

Jamie gave his dad a cherubic grin. “Did he get on your nerves then, Dad?” 

“Every last one of them. Your godfather is good at that.” 

Jamie came a little closer, trying to get a good view of the runes. Maybe if he remembered enough, he could also write little notes to people who got on his nerves. He thought about that annoying hotdog bun in his primary school, Tommy Bedlow. Tommy definitely deserved some ‘lessons.’

“So what happens when they open it, then?” 

“Well, the important thing about lessons is that they have to be individualized. Not everyone learns the same way—so you have to think about the person and what would best teach them the lesson you want them to learn.” Harry lectured partially going into his professor mode. 

Jamie scooted even closer. His mum always told him his mind was like a steel trap. Once he learned new information, he didn’t forget it. He just needed the last few runes, and he could definitely reproduce the letter his father was creating. 

“What exactly is going on here?!” Hermione’s stern voice made them both jump and the letter Harry was just about to close fluttered back open and then began to jerk in the air. Magic arced out the letter in small bursts, and a black hole appeared in the center of the parchment. 

“Oh, bloody hell,” Harry muttered, pulling out his wand to cast a containment field around the jerking letter. 

“Harry James Potter! What kind of language—oh bloody hell!” Hermione broke off as dozens of white ferrets started crawling out of the parchment's black hole. 

“Do not send bloody secret admirers gifts to Hermione Jean Potter!" The ferrets chanted in squeaky voices.  "Do not send bloody secret admirers gifts to Hermione Jean Potter! DO NOT SEND ANYTHING OR THINK ABOUT SENDING ANYTHING TO HERMIONE JEAN POTTER!!!” The ferrets screeched and squealed as they tumbled over one another in the containment bubble Harry had cast. 

James started laughing and pointing. “Oh, this is brilliant! I can’t wait to send one of these to Tommy!” 

Little Poppy, who was only days old, watched with big eyes, her little hands reaching for the fluffy-looking white ferrets. Hermione stared in astonishment at her husband, her mouth hanging half open. 

Harry looked at his children and then his wife — who he hadn’t meant to see any of this and gave a sheepish shrug. “I was just dealing with some unwanted mail, honey.”

Chapter Text

Harry held his daughter, staring intently at her little face. Not that she was doing anything that required that level of attention. Occasionally she would give more effort than necessary to breathe in and her little mouth would open wide while her tiny body gave a small shiver. 

He stroked his fingertip slowly along her softly curved cheek as she slept on, a tight feeling in his chest. He had forgotten how small babies were when they were new. They grew so fast, especially the rough-and-tumble boys. He was mostly around with the Weasley children and then his own. 

Harry understood a little bit more Bill Weasley’s paranoia about Victoire. A soft warm weight came against his side and he looked over to his son, coming to stare at Poppy with him. 

“Do you think she’ll play quidditch with us? Victoire only likes to play with dolls.” 

“Maybe.” 

James snuggled closer to Harry’s side. “Even if Poppy doesn’t play with us, you’ll still play quidditch with me, right?” 

“Of course.” 

James yawned, his eyes blinking closed. “Will we take her to meet Grandma and Grandpa Potter?” 

Harry and Hermione had fallen into the habit of visiting his parent's graves on Christmas Eve, as a remembrance. “Maybe.” 

James' breathing slowed as he fell asleep against Harry. There was a warning tingle in his arm that said it was falling asleep and would probably get stiff but Harry ignored it. Instead, he marveled again that such a life was his. Two beautiful children who were happy. Who didn’t have to worry about dark wizards after them or desperately yearn for a family as Harry had. 

He looked up as steps approached and Hermione squeezed herself on his other side. She pressed a kiss to his cheek before cuddling her head on his shoulder. “You’re a great family pillow.” 

“It’s part of my Dad skill set.” 

She gave a soft laugh. “No, even when we were younger, you were the best pillow.” Hermione’s hand stroked along his forearm where he cradled a sleeping Poppy. “There were nights I could only sleep because I had you next to me.” 

“Mmm.” 

“What are you thinking about?” 

“James asked me if we were going to go to my parents' grave this Christmas eve.” 

“Of course, we will.” There was a pause, and Hermione straightened up, pulling back so she could see Harry’s face. He wasn’t looking at her but was staring downward toward the children. “Harry?” 

“Is it really healthy to take the children to visit a cemetery on Christmas Eve?” 

“I think it’s more of remembering important people on a special day.” Hermione searched his face. 

“Maybe instead of that, we could start a new tradition. I still have those photos Hagrid gathered for me. We could look through them and remember them as they lived.” 

Hermione reached out and cupped his chin, gently tugging so he faced her. “Are you sure, love?” 

Harry’s forehead wrinkled as he tried to put together the words to make her understand the feeling he had. “I want my children to remember that their grandparents were happy even with the short time they had. I want them to look toward the future with excitement, not be reminded of a terrible past.” 

Hermione leaned forward and kissed him, pressing her lips gently against his. “This sudden change of heart doesn’t have anything to do with Poppy being less than a month old?” 

“No.” Harry glanced down. “Well, not totally. Look how small she is, though!” 

“Harry.” 

Harry gave as much a shrug as he could, still pinned on one side by a sleeping James and holding Poppy. 

“When James was two, you threw him into a snow mound.” 

“Not the same at all, and I cast cushioning charms.” 

“There’s warming charms.”

“Hermione.” 

She stared into his determined green gaze and gave in. They would remember James and Lily Potter differently than they had these past years. “Okay.” 

Harry smiled at her before looking back down at their daughter. 

Hermione ran a hand through his messy black hair, smoothing the worst back. “I love you.” 

“I love you too.” Harry smiled and opened his mouth, about to say something a little bit naughtier, when a high-pitched voice cut him off. 

“I love Mum, and Dad, and Poppy too!” James' eyes were wide open as he moved back. “I don’t remember getting thrown in the snow. Can we do that again so I remember this time?” 

Harry looked at his son. “How long have you been awake?” 

“The whole time.” 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Hermione asked, exasperated. 

“I wanted to see what you guys would say first,” James replied innocently.