1,000 Days

~Chapter 4~

Harry

Harry woke on the morning of September first feeling very nervous. It was Sunday and classes would be starting the very next day, like always. He had seventh year Hufflepuffs first, sixth year Ravenclaws and then two classes of Slytherins; first years, then seventh years again.

He didn't have any Gryffindor students until Wednesday, and the day was packed with them.

His seat at the High Table that night was between Hermione and Draco. It couldn't have been worse, even if it had been planned. Pure torture.

When Ginny led the students in from the underground tunnel to be Sorted, Harry saw their looks of fear and well remembered the first time he had entered the halls of Hogwarts...

After the ceremony was over and the feast eaten, McGonagall stood to address them all.

"Welcome!" her voice rang. "Now, before we all go to bed, I must make a few start-of-term notices.

"First. The Forbidden Forest is forbidden to all students, that is why it is called the Forbidden Forest.

"Second, I would like to welcome our new Defense Against The Dark Arts professor. Many of you have heard of our newest member of the Hogwarts family, now is your chance to meet him. I introduce you all to Professor Potter. His classes promise to be most enjoyable." There was a long, loud round of applause from the students as they all cheered Harry's new appointment. He could tell by the looks on their faces that they couldn't wait for his class. It was just as he felt when he was faced with his first DADA class. Hopefully, his class wouldn't be as much of a joke as Professor Quirrell's had been.

"Now, as many of you know, magic is not to be used in the halls between classes. Mr. Filch tells me this is the one thousand and eightieth time he has requested this be announced. And he should know." she smirked, encouraging a chuckle to run through the student body. Filch, who stood in a corner with his cat at his feet, scowled at them all.

"Some things never change," Hermione muttered in Harry's ear.

Harry nodded and scanned the crowd of students. There was a red-haired, freckle-faced boy with blue eyes sitting with the first years at the Gryffindor table. Harry nudged Hermione with his elbow. "Isn't that Ron's eldest?" he asked pointing.

Hermione moved his hand, so he was no longer pointing at the boy who had turned his attention to the staff table. "Alex," she answered. "Yes, he's Ron's eldest."

"Wow. He's eleven now? Really?"

"He is," Hermione replied oddly.

"Now, off to bed with you," McGonagall, said to the students.

Ron's son separated from the group and journeyed up to the High Table.

"Hey Hermione, Harry," he said with a smile. "How's it going?"

"Good," Hermione said warmly.

"When's Ayden coming back over?" Alex asked her. Harry looked at Hermione confused. Who was Ayden?

"I don't know," Hermione said nervously. Harry could clearly hear her voice shaking. "He's with my parents right now."

"Oh," Alex replied, his face falling. "That's too bad. He was really looking forward to seeing this year's Quidditch season. We're all hoping Gryffindor wins the Cup again. It'll be the fourth year in a row! If only I could be on the team..." he finished wistfully. "Maybe next year.... Anyway, I've got to go! Bye!"

Harry stared in confusion as Alex ran off to catch up to the rest of the Gryffindors.

"Who's Ayden?" Harry asked.

Not answering--acting as though she hadn't heard the question more like--Hermione rose from her seat and hurried out of the Hall. Harry still sat there, confused as ever. What was going on?

*****

Harry's alarm clock rudely woke him by shouting "Get up, you'll be late for work!"

He showered and dressed before tracing the familiar path to the Great Hall for a breakfast he wasn't remotely hungry for.

Hermione wasn't there, Harry noticed, sitting in the same chair head occupied the night before. His gaze again traveled to Alex. He hadn't seen the boy in two years, but he still looked exactly like his father. Seeing him made Harry wonder how Ron and Bridgett were doing.

"Where is she?" Draco asked joining Harry at the staff table. It was the first bit of conversation that had passed between the two since the morning after they had said their good-byes.

"I don't know," Harry replied stiffly. "I haven't seen her since last night."

"Rumor around here is she has a son," Draco informed him. "Name's Ayden."

Harry shook his head. "Impossible," he replied. "No way would she keep that from me, even if we haven't been speaking for the last nine years. No one changes so much that they can't even tell their best friend that they've had someone's child."

Besides, Harry thought, She promised there would be no one else. And when would she find the time?

"Don't know who you're fooling, Harry, but I would like to add that you have an even greater secret you've been keeping."

"I would know if she had a child."

"Then how do you explain Ron's son inquiring about a person you have never met? And why would this person be at Hermione's parents' house?"

"Because this person--"

"Is my son, Harry," Hermione said sitting down.

"What?" Harry demanded. "How? Who's?"

"Later," Hermione answered.

Harry looked at Draco and glared at the smirk he received. No way. This was not possible. Hermione wouldn't--she couldn't--no, no, she couldn't have a son!

"Excuse me," Draco said standing. "But I must give my students their schedules."

Luna and Ernie followed Draco's example, each with a stack of papers, and walked down to their House tables.

Harry couldn't get over the fact that Hermione had a son. This had to be some huge joke. No way could she. Who's was it?

"Who," he asked again. He had to know. It would eat him up inside until he knew the identity of this child's father. And judging by the fact that Hermione's name was still Granger--and that she had no ring on her finger--this guy left her to take care of the child on her own. Harry was ready for murder.

"You know him," Hermione said ominously. "You know him very well."

Was this child Draco's? No, Draco wouldn't do that either. But he knew.... Maybe that would explain why Hermione was so interested in the history between the two of them.

"I used to know him better than anyone else. Nine years ago..."

Harry felt the blood drain from his face. The child was his. "Why didn't you tell me?" he asked roughly. "Why did you keep this from me?"

Hermione blinked back tears. "I don't know," she whispered.

"Ron knew?" he asked putting two and two together. "Ron knew all along?"

"Ron's been helping me take care of him. Every time he's stopped talking to you, Ayden's been staying at his house. We sort of thought that if Ron wasn't talking to you, you wouldn't have an excuse to go over to his house, and if you never went to his house, you would never see him...."

"Do you have a picture?"

Hermione nodded. "He looks just like you. I can show it to you later, I don't have it here right now."

"Fine."

*****

Harry never noticed the change of classes that day. He never noticed how he managed to get through each class and still teach. Harry would be amazed by the end of the day that he got through it without once loosing it and just walking out of the classroom.

In a daze, Harry wondered back to his room during his break period. Waiting for him when he entered the room was Hermione.

"I owe you an apology," she said softly, not looking at him. "I was afraid and so I didn't tell you, and I can never tell you how sorry I am."

"You should have told me, Hermione," he replied still amazingly calm. Did she have any idea how much she would have changed if she had told him about this in the first place? He would never have had to hide his past relationship with Draco, for there would be no past relationship with Draco to hide. How could she do this to him?

"Harry, I understand if you're angry, hell, I understand if you hate me forever. I should never have kept this from you, I was wrong and I am sorry. Merlin, I am so sorry," she sat down on the sofa and buried her face in her hands, crying.

Harry was overcome with emotion. All he wanted was to comfort her, but he was so angry with her for not telling him, and then he was still in shock. Ayden had to be eight years old, at the youngest! He knelt down in front of her. "Why didn't you tell me?" he begged. He needed the answer; he needed to know the truth.

"I was so scared when I found out," she whispered. "I had just started teaching, and none of the teachers had families that I knew of. And you dove into your Auror stuff and I barely heard from you. I just didn't know what to do. I almost lost this job, and it meant so much more to me than anything at that point. I didn't have a place to live if I got fired. I didn't want to be a bother..."

"You are never a bother, Hermione," Harry said giving her a kiss.

"Here," she said wiping her tears before reaching into an inside pocket of her black robes. "It's our son."

Harry took the photograph with a shaking hand. His breath caught in his chest when he saw the boy. He was holding a broom on his shoulder and a snitch was clasped in his right hand. He had Harry's brilliant green eyes and his unruly black hair. He wore no glasses however. Harry smiled at that. Apparently he'd inherited his mother's eyesight. And thank Merlin he didn't have her teeth.

He did however have her light skin tone, and her freckles. And he had her nose.

"He's just like you, too," Hermione said, watching Harry's reaction to the photograph. "Great Quidditch player--he's a Seeker--and he has a lot of your charming personality. He's very noble, chivalrous. And he's smart. Merlin, is he smart. If there weren't an age limit on education, he could be a third year by now."

"He's got the best of both of us then," Harry said softly. "Your brains, my talents. He'll be great in Defense. He has to be, with parents like us."

"When do you want to meet him?" she asked.

"I can meet him?" Harry asked hopefully.

"Of course, Harry," Hermione replied, sounding as though the thought of Harry not being able to meet his son was outrageous. "Whenever you like. I can have my parents send him here tomorrow."

"Here?" Harry asked. "What about the school? McGonagall?"

"She Okayed it years ago, actually. She was amazingly lenient when I was pregnant with him. She even took over my class--personally--for a while. I don't think I'll be able to thank her enough."

"When did this happen?" Harry asked confused. He didn't remember him and Hermione that intimate so close to her leaving.

"At my going away party."

"I was that drunk?" Harry asked shocked.

Hermione glared at him. "Do you have to be drunk to sleep with me?" she demanded.

"No!" Harry said trying to save himself from her wrath. "No, that's not what I meant! I meant that I don't remember!"

"In that case, yes, you were that drunk. You spent the morning in the bathroom spewing your guts out."

Harry began laughing suddenly.

"What's so funny?" she asked.

"S.P.E.W.," Harry answered. "Remember? S.P.E.W.?"

Hermione started laughing as well.

"And Ron's okay with him staying there?" Harry asked after they'd calmed down.

"He's only there maybe once or twice a year. The rest of the time, he's with my parents. Usually Ron brings him to the Quidditch matches, he loves it so much.... He and Bridgett always have so much fun with him, and the kids all get along great. Last Christmas..."

Harry had stopped listening. So far, Hermione had told him that Ron was more a part of Ayden's life because she was too scared to tell him about the baby. Had Harry not been so against it, he probably would have hit her by now, just to knock some sense into her.

"Damnit," he said harshly, standing. "WHY?" he yelled. He walked over to the window, sun shining through and hitting his eyes. He blinked and turned away. "Ron was there for him, for you. Why couldn't you have told me? Since when are you too scared to do something?"

The cuff of his shirt rubbed against the scar on his wrist. Harry scratched it, failing to hide the damaged tissue from Hermione.

She stood slowly. "Harry?" she said slowly walking over to him. "What is on your wrist?"

"Nothing," Harry said hiding his hand in the sleeve of his robe.

She snatched his hand at the wrist. She unbuttoned the cuff and pushed up the sleeve. Harry silently cursed her watchfulness, and everything else about her he possibly could at the moment. Aside from his relationship with Draco, the only thing he didn't want her knowing about was this very thing. His attempted suicide.

"What is this?" she asked weakly looking from the scar to Harry's eyes. "WHAT IS THIS?" she screamed when he didn't answer.

Harry was speechless. "An attempt at suicide," he informed her coldly, regaining his composure. "What does it look like?"

She slapped him. "God damn you, Harry," she spat. "Damn you to HELL! How DARE you do this?"

"It was a mistake, alright?" he demanded. "It was a stupid mistake!"

"Why?" she demanded coldly. "Why after all these years would you do something stupid like this?"

"I'm not doing it again," he answered. "That's all that matters now."

"Who found you?"

"What?"

"You attempted suicide, Harry. People like that don't usually go to the hospital on their own. Who found you?"

"Draco did. But he doesn't know anything," he added in a hurry when she turned to leave.

She glared at him and went to the fireplace. She lifted a handful of Floo powder and threw it into the fire. "Draco Malfoy," she called. Draco appeared seconds later, looking confused at his sudden summon. "What?" he asked.

"Why did he do it?" Hermione demanded furiously. "Why did he try to kill himself?"

"How do you--?"

"TELL ME!" she shouted, near tears again.

"NO!" Harry yelled. "Draco, don't you dare say a word!"

Draco stepped out of the fire, completely bewildered. "You--How does she even know?" he asked Harry. "You said she didn't know, that she wouldn't know!"

"Scars," was Harry's answer to Draco's question, as well as part of Hermione's.

"Maybe you should tell her, Harry," Draco replied solemnly. "Sooner rather than later. Look at how many people know. You've both kept secrets from each other for too long. Maybe it's time to let them out."

"You know I can't," Harry replied, looking away from the two people he loved most in this world. He sighed and walked over to his bed. Sitting on the edge, he looked up at Hermione. "You want to know what happened?" he asked. Hermione nodded, and Draco, possibly not ready to hear the story again, left.

"I had Aurors at my house constantly. They were there to protect me should any Death Eaters attack. They couldn't protect me from myself, however. The night before, at dinner, I snuck the steak knife up my sleeve and went to bed. The next morning I told them I was going to take a shower and I wanted to be left alone.

"I turned on the water, slit my wrists and stepped in. Didn't even bother to get out of my clothes.

"Next thing I knew, I was waking up in St. Mungo's with Draco standing over me like he was about to kill me. He was my partner in the department. Later he had told me that he had come over to check up on me because I had been acting weird. I remember thinking, 'then why didn't you let me die you bastard,' but I knew why he didn't.

"I knew exactly why he didn't. Contrary to popular opinion, he's the biggest softy I know. There was no way he could stand back and let me kill myself..."

"I'll be forever thankful to him then," Hermione said softly, turning so she could see Harry better. "I couldn't stand it if you died. I couldn't stand looking at Ayden if I knew you'd gone and killed yourself, especially if I thought I could have stopped it by telling you. Would I?" she asked then. "If I had told you about your son, would I have stopped your attempt?"

Harry closed his eyes. "Probably," he sighed.

"Christ," she breathed. "Of course. The one time I get scared is the one time you need me strongest."

"Very Gryffindor of you," he joked. "Hermione this was three years ago," he said seriously, sitting. "We hadn't spoken in six years. For all I knew, you were dead. I had nothing, and I was sick of everything. I needed an out. I thought suicide was the perfect answer. No way could I come back from that, and no way would I have problems in whatever comes next. Voldemort would no longer be my problem.

"There were only two people on my mind that night. You and him."

"Draco?" she asked. "Why? What is between you now? None of this makes any sense Harry."

"I know it doesn't. And when I am ready for you to know, I will tell you. No one else will, I've asked them not to. You will get your answers, love, I promise. All you have to do is trust me."