Work Text:
Harry sighed as he crawled into bed next to his already sleeping wife. He hated that he'd had to work so late on Christmas Eve, but there had been no helping it. Not a day went by that he seriously regretted taking the job of Minister for Magic. He'd only run in the election because Hermione had convinced him to do so. She'd claimed that he was the only one who could make a difference.
Harry had tried to tell her it should be her, but once Hermione had made up her mind, there was no changing it. That was one of the many reasons why he loved her so much. He turned over and looked at her, sleeping soundly beside him. He had no clue how he'd ended up here. A wife whom he loved more than life itself, two beautiful children that he'd die for, and a family that he never thought he'd have.
The war had cost so much. The aftermath even more so, as the magical world fought to emerge from hundreds of years of bigotry and evil disguised as tradition. There were so many people who had simply had enough and had left. Harry couldn't blame them. Being told repeatedly you were less would make anyone want to leave. It was why he had eventually succumbed to his wife's plan of running for Minister.
She had argued that his fame would only get him so far, that he needed real power if they were actually going to change things. Hermione argued that it couldn't be her, as the public wouldn't trust her, despite her being a bonafide war hero in her own right.
Harry hated the idea right from the start and had rejected it harshly. More than once. But Hermione had been persistent about it, and now here he was, a year later. Minister for Magic, coming home at 2AM on Christmas Eve. He'd missed dinner, despite promising to attend. He'd missed so much. The twin's birthday party, Hermione's birthday party, and his birthday party. So many things that he'd never get back.
He hated it.
Hermione was understanding, though they had fought about it a few times. Times when he'd had to put the job ahead of his family, despite every part of his being not wanting to do so. The worst part, though, were the times when he had to tell his five-year-old kids why he wasn't there for them, why they couldn't be his priority. He'd gone to bed crying more than once after such conversations, wanting nothing more than to resign his office so he could just make this right.
But every time he thought about quitting, Hermione would be the strong one. She'd tell him he wasn't a quitter and that what he was doing was important, that he was doing it for their family's future.
It didn't make him feel better, but he didn't quit.
“Harry?” Hermione mumbled, turning over.
“Hey, love,” Harry replied, leaning over to kiss her forehead.
“You're late.”
“I know. I got pulled into a Wizengamot committee meeting.”
“On Christmas?"
Harry scoffed. "Those idiots won't leave the new laws alone. Parkinson gleefully called everyone in, knowing that he was ruining things for me."
"Are you sure we can't just kill him?" She asked sleepily.
Harry chuckled lowly. "I'm sure. They'd know it was me."
"You'd get away with it, though. Tonks would never arrest you."
"Probably true."
"Did you put the gifts out, or do we need to go play Santa?"
"They're out. I suppose that's the only good thing about being home so late."
"You're doing so much good."
Harry closed his eyes and pulled her close. "I don't think it's worth it. We should just pack up the brats and move to Australia. Your parents will love having them closer. I'll be a beach bum dad."
"Maybe when your term is over, honey," Hermione said, snuggling closer. Harry felt her fall back to sleep and sighed again.
He was doing good, but he hated himself for the things he was missing.
---
Harry was sleeping soundly. Curled around his wife, his face buried in her hair, breathing deeply. The attack came suddenly and without remorse. The bed shook, and a weight landed on Harry, pinning him and Hermione to the bed. Harry's eyes popped open, prepared to come face-to-face with a Death Eater pinning him down. Instead, he snapped his head around and came face-to-face with his five-year-old son, James. Hermione wiggled out of Harry's grasp and turned towards them.
"Mommy! Daddy! It's Christmas!"
Harry groaned. Hermione poked him in the side.
"James, go back to sleep. It's only...what time is it?"
"But, it's Christmas!"
Harry looked at Hermione, who had apparently been much more prepared for this attack than he had been, given that she looked wide awake. He sent her a mock glare when she smirked at him.
He turned back to his son and asked, "Where's your sister?"
"Sleeping," James replied, as if Rosalind was committing the greatest sin in history by not being up so early on Christmas.
"We might as well get up," Hermione said. "We can start breakfast before opening our gifts."
"Or," Harry said, grabbing James and pulling him down onto the bed beside him, "we can stay here. It's warm. We can have a nice lie-in."
"Daddy! Christmas!" James shouted, wiggling out of Harry's grip and then hopping off the bed.
Harry groaned again and turned back towards his wife, who was smiling at him. "What?"
"I'm glad you're here."
Harry smiled back and then pulled her down for a kiss. He tried to deepen it, in hopes that he could find a reason to stay in bed, but she pulled away and smirked at him again.
"None of that, mister. We have two little monsters who will want their haul from Santa."
"Spoiled brats," Harry mumbled. Hermione swatted him; he just grinned back at her. "Fine. We'll get up. When is the video call with your parents?"
"This evening."
Harry knew that Hermione had been upset that the Grangers hadn't been able to make the trip for Christmas. Daniel had come down with some illness, so they'd had to cancel. Harry was secretly glad for that. Not that he wished his father-in-law ill, but neither Dan nor Emma was his biggest fan. He knew they still blamed him for pulling their daughter into so many dangerous situations over the years. He'd once overheard Hermione's mom say that she'd hoped that Hermione would end up with 'the red-headed one.' Hermione just scoffed when he had told her, but Harry knew that her parents were never going to like him.
"Come on," Hermione said, throwing off the covers. "Let's get breakfast started."
Harry sighed and got up, the cold floor sending shockwaves through his body. He really needed to look up a charm for heated floors.
"Or you could just get slippers like normal people," Hermione said, throwing on her robe. She smirked at him. "What? You were thinking about heated floors again."
Harry just shook his head. "Slippers are for old people."
"Love, are you calling me old?"
Harry's eyes widened. "Nope!"
---
He watched as his kids opened their presents. Harry sat on the floor, leaning up against Hermione's legs as she sat in the ugly fluffy chair she'd bought when they'd gotten married. The chair was comfy, Harry wouldn't deny, but its greenish 70's-era pattern did not fit in with the rest of the modern decor. But Hermione loved the thing, so he kept his thoughts to himself.
Rosalind was cooing over the doll she'd just opened, while James seemed to be having more fun with the wrapping paper than he was with his new toys. Harry laughed when a piece of tape got stuck to his boy's forehead. Hermione giggled above him, drawing his attention.
This was his family. He never thought he'd have one, but here he was. His life wasn't perfect. He spent far too much time at work, his job demanding more than it should. But these little moments reminded him of how far they'd come. He'd do anything for his family, absolutely anything.
---
Harry slowly opened his eyes, shivering under the covers. His cheeks were wet, though he didn't really understand why until he remembered his dream. A family. Would he really get to have a family one day? The war was getting worse by the day, and now Ron had abandoned them. How could he even think about his future happiness when he might be killed before he turned 18? How could he, when he knew about the evil behind his scar?
Harry looked around for Hermione, then he froze.
Hermione.
In the dream, he'd been married to Hermione. Hermione, who was currently outside keeping watch. Hermione, who was heartbroken because Ron was gone. Hermione, who had made her choice in sixth year, and it hadn't been Harry.
Not that Harry had ever let her know he was an option. He had loved her since fourth year but had never let her know. He'd had a plan during 5th year, but he'd blown it by being so angry all year long. He'd wanted to ask her to Hogsmeade, but his anger had driven her away. Not that he could blame her for choosing Ron after Harry had spent so much time yelling at her for no reason. Then in sixth year, they'd been fighting all the time, and she'd made it obvious that it was Ron that she'd wanted.
But now, Ron was gone. Ron had said nasty things the night before, then had apparated away. Harry could feel his anger stirring again. His biggest regret was forgiving the red-headed idiot after the whole Tri-Wizard Tournament fiasco. Ron had always been a flaky friend at best, always letting his hot-headed emotions get in the way. But the boy had been Harry's first friend, so Harry had tried to look past Ron's less than stellar loyalty.
But no more. Harry couldn't see how he could ever be friends with Ronald Weasley again. He'd left Harry and Hermione alone, in the woods, to die. There was no coming back from that.
The question was, what should they do now? Ron was right about one thing. What they were doing wasn't working, and Harry was sick of waiting for the war to come to them. Even more than that, he was sick of letting other people dictate his life. For years, it had been the Dursleys. Then it was, or maybe it had always been, Dumbledore. Still, even though the bearded old man was dead and gone, Harry was still dancing to his tune.
It wasn't working. Whatever Dumbledore's plan was, all it was doing was leading to more and more people dying, and Harry was tired of it. And he so badly wanted a future. He wanted the future that he'd just dreamed about. He, Hermione, and their kids - all living together, happily. He'd pass on being Minister of Magic; the dream had taken that much too far, but the rest? Yeah, he wanted that.
Harry had the feeling that a future for him wasn't in Dumbledore's plan. And that just pissed him off. It was time to stop this nonsense and make the future he dreamed for himself.
With that thought in mind, Harry's inner Gryffindor came out, and he stood up from his cot and made his way towards the entrance to their little tent. Hermione sat on a log in front of the fire, trying and failing to keep warm. The sight did nothing to soothe Harry's anger. She deserved better than this. Why hadn't they had a plan? Why were they out here, in the middle of nowhere, with no supplies, freezing their arses off? It was time for a change.
Hermione looked up. "Harry?"
Her tone was questioning; obviously, she'd seen something on his face. Harry had never been good at hiding his emotions. No doubt, he looked a right mess, but he was decided. He needed to do this.
"Hermione. Let's go inside. We need to talk."
"What about watch?" Hermione asked, seeming nervous. Harry didn't blame her. They hadn't talked much, just the two of them, in the last year. They'd let their pride and tempers get the better of them. No more. Hermione was his best friend; he wasn't going to let that end.
"Your wards are good enough for now. Please?"
Hermione nodded and stood. She followed him back into the tent and sat down on the sofa. "What did you want to talk about?"
Harry paced in front of her for several seconds, then turned to her. "This isn't working. Ron was right about that. What we're doing isn't working. We don't have a plan. What little knowledge we do have isn't nearly enough. Dumbledore has us out here chasing our tails. It's only a matter of time before we're caught."
"So what? You want to give up? Harry..."
"No. I'm not giving up. I can't. Riddle won't give up until I'm dead. Even if you and I were to run to Australia to join your parents, he'd eventually find me. No, we have to settle this now if we have any hope of having a future."
Hermione nodded. "What do you want to do?"
"I want to stop this camping trip from hell. I want to find a hotel somewhere and stay there. We can still move around. We will have real food, real shelter. We can still ward our rooms. I want to start fighting this war the way we should have always been fighting it. We need to take out Riddle's support structure, one pure-blooded idiot at a time until it's only him left. Yes, he's powerful, but without his Death Eaters, he's just a man. I want to free the Muggleborns from their camps and liberate the Ministry of Magic."
"What about the Horcruxes?"
Harry flopped down next to her. "We're stuck on that. We can't do it ourselves. Let's ask Bill Weasley for help. Maybe he will know what we can do with the Locket, and if there's a way to use it to find the others. Surely we can use magic to track the link between the soul fragments."
"But Dumbledore..."
"Dumbledore wants me to die, Hermione," Harry snapped.
"Harry..."
"It's true. Think about it. He never trained me. He didn't give me any information. Ron may have been right about our situation, but he was dead wrong when he said I was holding out on you. I've told you everything Dumbledore told me, which is damn near nothing at all. If he really wanted me to survive, he wouldn't have left this task for me at all. He had the Order. Moody or Remus or any of the others. And don't tell me it's because he didn't trust them. There are magical oaths; you and I both know that."
Hermione sighed. "So, he wanted you to die? I agree that he didn't prepare you, but Harry, that doesn't mean he wanted you dead."
"I'm a Horcrux, Hermione," Harry said softly. "I think I've always known, but I just didn't want to admit it to myself."
Hermione went pale and shook her head.
"Think about it. What better than to send me out on this quest? I'm expendable. And it makes sense. All the things I see from Riddle's mind. My connection with the Locket. Everything. Dumbledore thought I needed to die so that Riddle could be defeated. Come on, I know you've had to consider it." Hermione nodded.
"W-what do we do?" Hermione asked, wiping away a tear. "I don't want you to die."
"I don't want to die. I want a future. I want to finish my education. I want to get a job and grow up. I want to... I want to kiss you and tell you how I feel and have a family with you. I...damnit," Harry sighed and looked away. He didn't want to burden her with his feelings. He had only wanted to tell her that he had a plan, but now... now she'd leave and he'd be alone. Why couldn't he just keep his mouth shut? Damn dream.
There was a lot of silence coming from the spot next to him on the couch. Harry decided he should try to do some damage control. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that last part. I do want a future, so I'm going to do everything possible to find a way to survive."
"What about Ginny?" Hermione asked softly. Harry finally turned to meet her eyes. She was still crying, and her cheeks were flushed, probably angry with him. "You were with her?"
"I only went for Ginny because I didn't see a way for you and me to be together. You and Ron kept getting closer, and you and I were fighting all the time. I just figured my feelings for you would go away, and it was time to move on."
"You're such an idiot sometimes, Harry Potter," Hermione said.
"What? Why?"
"I've been in love with you since forever, or so it seems. I only started going after Ronald because you were chasing after the sportier models."
"..."
Hermione giggled. Then she kissed him. Harry was frozen. What was going on? Hermione was kissing him. HERMIONE WAS KISSING HIM!!!!!
He finally managed to kiss her back, and his world changed forever. Nothing better than this could exist. Warmth spread through his body, his toes tingled, and his brain felt like it was going to explode.
When they finally pulled back, Hermione snuggled up against him, and Harry slung an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. "Perfection," he said with a dopey grin.
"What made you do this? I mean, why the change in plans?" Hermione asked.
Harry blushed but answered anyway. "I had a dream about our kids, our family, at Christmas time. I want that."
"Me too," she said as she snuggled closer. "Me too,"
---
EPILOGUE
The war changed from that moment. Harry and Hermione managed to arrange a meeting with Fred, George, Bill, and Fleur. Together, they told their allies about the horcruxes and about their new plan. Bill and Fleur were put on Horcrux duty, as they had encountered them before and had contacts with the Goblins. Harry, Hermione, and the twins started planning raids on the Death Eaters.
Over the next six months, through trickery and cunning, they managed to cull every last one of Voldemort's followers except Peter Pettigrew and Bellatrix Lestrange. They even managed to drop portkeys on the giants that sent the monsters to the underground cave where Voldemort had stored the Locket originally. Harry had figured that if the beasts were still alive after the war, the Ministry could handle it.
Bill and Fleur managed to use a ritual to destroy the Locket Horcrux, which led them to try the same ritual on Harry. It worked, but he ended up knocked out for three weeks afterward. Hermione didn't leave his side the entire time, only stopping long enough to give Bill a piece of her mind. When Harry finally woke up, he got the same treatment, only his tongue-lashing ended with a fierce kiss.
They found the Cup with the help of the Goblins and the Diadem with the help of Dobby and Winky. Then, once those were destroyed, Harry challenged Voldemort to a duel. Harry knew the snake-faced bastard wouldn't play fair, so he rigged the battleground with traps of his own, which ended the battle right quick when old Voldy stepped on a land mine. The explosion took Nagini out as well, which Harry considered payment for all of his bad luck over the years. Hermione and the twins managed to catch Lestrange and Pettigrew at the same time, ending the war.
Harry would have thought the ending very anticlimactic if they hadn't had to fight so hard to get to the end.
He and Hermione went on to have four children, two girls and two boys. Harry did become Minister of Magic, but only after his wife served her own term in the same position. They ended up alternating being in power for over 100 years. Neither one let the job get in the way of each other or their family. They enjoyed many Christmases together, enjoying each one, even if their children did have the habit of waking them up entirely too early.