Love, Lies, and a Secret

Love, Lies, and a Secret

Chapter 14: Sorting Some Things Out

Grangers' Residence, Manchester

October, 1981

Amanda Granger was just about to serve dinner when the doorbell rang suddenly, but before she could think to answer the door, her husband had already gone to open it. Their two-year-old daughter was behind him, following him slowly.

"Hello, May I help you?" she heard her husband asking.

However, the answer wasn't exactly what she was expecting. "H-Hermione?" a young man voice whispered loud enough for her to hear. "Is this Hermione? S-She's gotten so big."

Walking quickly, Amanda went to the door and picked up her baby, intuitively protecting her from that stranger.

"What do you want, sir?" Phillip Granger asked again in a terse tone of voice. "Do I know you?"

Still holding the young girl in her arms, Amanda came near to the door to see who it was. The voice's owner was a young man, probably not older than twenty-one, or twenty-two. He wasn't very tall and even with the pair of glasses he was wearing and his messy hair, Amanda could see that he was a handsome man.

However, what really caught her attention was the toddler he had in his arms. It was an adorable baby boy, who resembled the man greatly. It was, without a doubt, his son.

"Baby!" Hermione let out a small cry, pointing a tiny finger at the baby boy.

"Yes, sweetie. Baby," Amanda replied, but did not take her eyes away from the pair in front at her. The young man was smiling sadly at Hermione. "Well?" she asked firmly.

The young man shook his head, as if he was attempting to return to the present. "Oh, I'm sorry," he said with a smile. "I'm James Potter, and this is my son Harry."

Potter. Potter... Potter was Hermione's...

Amanda felt as though the air around had become cold, and a feeling of dread filled her body immediately. Phillip moved to stand protectively in front of Amanda and Hermione.

"Baby!" Hermione giggled again.

"Shh, sweetie," Amanda whispered quietly to Hermione, who was smiling widely at the boy.

"Oh, I see you already know me," James Potter commented.

"What do you want?" Philip asked a little too rudely. "I think we have nothing-" But James held up he free hand, making the other man stop speaking.

"I don't want to take Hermione back-"

"Oh well, that is good!" Amanda spoke out. "The adoption was entirely legal. She is our daughter now. Our little girl. We asked t-that old man, Dumbly-something..."

"Dumbledore."

"Whatever." Amanda dismissed it with a wave. "We asked him if the father of the child, Hermione, was sure that he wanted to give her up. He said you were!"

"H-He was right," James replied painfully. "It was the right decision. As much as I love Hermione...after Mary's death...I couldn't- I can't." He bit his bottom lip. "I-I just came here to see her one last time and - and give her something." James put a hand into one of his trouser pockets and pulled out a medium sized envelope.

"My wife and I, and Harry here, will be away for a while and-" He paused for a moment. "Anyways, here it is."

He then gave the envelope to Philip, who took it with a raised eyebrow.

"Go on, open it."

Gingerly, Phillip Granger opened the envelope and, after seeing what was inside, looked to James in confusion.

"What?" Amanda asked curiously. "What's inside, Phil?"

"Er..." He looked back and forth between his wife and James, who nodded, giving him wordless permission to show the content of the envelope to Amanda.

"I-It's a key, and a photograph." He reached into the envelope and removed a black and white photograph, a large old key, and two pieces of paper, and proceeded to give them to Amanda.

"What is this?" Amanda asked James, looking sorrowfully at the photograph. It was a photo of Hermione, a very small Harry, James, and a young brunette woman. Flipping over the photograph in her hand, Amada read:

'September 19, 1980 - Hermione's first birthday.

Hermione, Harry, James, and Mary.

Harry and Hermione meeting for the first time.

A happy day.'

Looking at the photograph, Amanda bit back a sob as tears began to fall from her eyes. With trembling hands, she unfolded the first piece of paper. She wasn't too surprised to find that it was a letter.

"Hermione,

I really don't know how to begin, or what to write. What is one supposed to write to a daughter that doesn't know them - or that doesn't remember knowing them?

I was never one to be good with words.

I just wanted to say that your mum, Mary, and I are very proud of you. And everything we did was for your safety.

I only wish that I will survive this war, and then, if possible, tell you the whole truth.

I love you, my daughter.

Your papa,

James Potter.

PS: With this letter I am also giving you a photograph of us, your mum and your brother, Harry. I am also attaching a copy of your birth certificate, attesting that I am your father. The vault, which the key opens, goes by number 415.

I love you."

"I-I don't understand," Amanda stammered.

James smiled sadly. "I don't know if you intend to tell Hermione she had been adopted b-but, if you do, I think she would like to know who her parents were." He looked at Hermione and sighed. "T-The key... you'll understand, in time." James shifted nervously on his feet before continued, "I have to go. I-It was nice to see her again and-"

Amanda grinned sympathetically at him. "We were just about to start dinner, why don't you and Harry stay?"

James smiled widely. "We would love to."

*~*~*~*

Grangers' Residence, Manchester

October, 2000

"Mum? Mum!" Hermione's voice brought Amanda Granger back from her daydreaming. "Mum? Are you all right?"

"Huh? Oh! Of course, sweetie," Amanda replied with a forced smiled. Everytime she saw Harry those memories seemed to return to her. And he looked so like his father. Amanda knew that Philip was right when he had told her that they needed to tell Hermione about who her real parents were. But - after so much time had passed, she couldn't help but feel afraid that Hermione would be angry with them.

"Hello, Harry, it's great to see you," she greeted Harry, giving him a hug and kiss on the cheek. "How have you been?"

"It's good to see you too, Missus Granger," he replied with a genuine smile. "I am good. How're you and Mister Granger?"

"We are doing fine, dear, but please - let's forget these formalities. Amanda and Philip are just fine."

"Okay, Mis- Amanda."

"Good!"

"Mum," Hermione spoke, "Harry and I are going to go for a walk. Do you need anything before we go?"

"Oh, no, sweetie," Amanda answered. "You are really in need of some fresh air, Hermione Granger. Being inside of this house all day reading isn't healthy!" Hermione rolled her eyes at her mum. "Just try to not stay away for too long after dark. I know, you are an adult but-"

"I know, mum." She gave her mother a kiss on the cheek, and then turned to Harry. "Let's go, Potter."

"Bye, mi- Amanda."

"See you, Harry."

*~*~*~*

"Harry-"

"Hermione-" They spoke at same time, as they sat at a table in a Café.

"I-" Harry started to speak again, but was interrupted by the waitress.

"Would like something?" the young waitress asked - and, in Hermione's opinion, she was smiling at Harry in a slightly more-than-friendly manner.

Before answering, Harry turned to Hermione. "Hermione?"

"A diet coke, please," she said, glaring at the waitress.

The young woman nodded and scribbled down the order in her notepad. "What about you, si-" She stopped and let free a giggle. "Oh, you don't mind if I don't call you sir, do you? You look so young!"

Hermione couldn't help but snort.

Bitch!

"That's alright," he said, grinning, "I want the same for me. Only, not diet."

"Oh, of course, you don't need anything diet at all!" She flashed him a smile before walking away.

"What a bitch!" Hermione hissed. "Did she just call me fat?!"

Harry bit the insides of his cheeks to keep from smiling. "She's just a loser," he said. "You are beautiful." He leaned over the table slightly, and took Hermione's hands into his. Everything he had intended to say was momentarily forgotten, and they stayed that way for what seemed to be forever. Silently, they simply looked at each other, until the waitress returned with their orders. This time, seeing their entangled hands, she didn't say a word.

"Harry." Hermione was the first to break the silence, letting go off his hand. "We need to talk." Harry opened his mouth to reply but she cut in before he had a chance to speak. "No, Harry, please, let me speak first."

He nodded and said nothing.

She took a sip of her drink, and then started to talk. "First I want to apologize for taking the early train that day. I-I should have told you."

"Why did you do it then?"

"After everything that had happened just a few hours before-" She looked down at her lap for a moment, before looking up at him once again. "I couldn't see you. Not so quickly. I needed to be alone, just with myself and my thoughts."

"Do you hate me?" Harry sputtered, a feeling of dread washing over his body. Lupin had been trying to convince him for days that Hermione didn't hate him, but still...

"Hate you? Of course not!" She raised her hand in an attempted to touch his, but paused when she was half way there. She closed her fingers slowly and retrieved her hand into her lap.

"On the contrary." She blushed lightly. "What happened between us... was so intense, at least for me, it was. I needed to sort some things out before talking to you again."

"And did you?" Harry interrupted her. "Did you sort some things out?"

She smiled nervously. "Sort of," she said. "M-my relationship with Ron wasn't ever easy." Hermione laughed dryly. "Sometimes I even wondered about how we managed to become friends. We are just so different. And I'm not only talking about the fact that I am a Muggleborn and he knows nothing about Muggles. I am talking about our beliefs. H-he is a great guy but-" She took a deep breath. "In the beginning it just seemed so obvious, you know? The bickering, and the idea of sidekicks who were just meant to be together, and you dating Ginny-" She shrugged. "It was what everyone wanted and expected. Granger and Weasley together. Hermione and Ron, a happy ending. But there weren't happy endings in this story, Harry. Day by day, Ron and I would become more miserable."

"Hermione-"

"Please, Harry, let me finish."

He nodded.

"Ron and I would become even more miserable..." she repeated the words she had left off at. "And then you... you kissed me. It made me so angry, so confused, Harry! I-I just wanted to hate you, to hit you... but I couldn't - I couldn't, because in reality, I was only angry with myself. I was angry for wanting to have done that before. Angry for not being able to forget my deep, and hidden feelings."

Harry stared at her, his eyes shinning. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. He thought for a moment that he had surely heard wrong, but he hadn't. He had always thought it to be impossible that Hermione would have feelings for him that were beyond friendship, but here she was, saying otherwise. He thought she would hate him after the way he had kissed her. He thought she would never want to speak to him again. That she would simply dismiss him and tell him that what he wanted could never be, because she loved Ron. But here she was, telling him that she and Ron were miserable together, and that she had wanted to kiss him, Harry. That she was angry with herself for not being able to push back her feelings. Her feelings for him.

"I'm confused, Harry," she continued. "I am really confused about these feelings that I have towards you. I don't know how to act, what to do. However, I can't do anything before talking with Ron. I need to speak with him. He deserves it. Even if he sometimes acts like a prat of a boyfriend, he is one of my best friends. Until then..." She looked at him, smiling sadly. "I can't."

Harry nodded, looking down at his untouched drink. "I know," he said, lifting his gaze to look at her. "I am not someone who finds it easy to talk about my feelings. I just knew that there was something there - something I just didn't want to see earlier. I don't know if it's love, Hermione, I don't. I just know that it's something powerful enough to restrain me from sleeping, eating, and thinking properly." He closed his eyes for a moment. "I-I wish I could feel this way about Ginny b-but, I just can't. She's such a great girl, though and I feel so bad and..."

Hermione got up from her chair and walked towards Harry's seat, kneeling in front of him, as she placed her hands on his lap. "Talk with her, Harry. She deserves it." She smiled at him. "Not because of...Talk with her about how you're feeling. She deserves it," she repeated.

Unable to control himself, Harry cupped Hermione's cheeks with his hands. "I know," he whispered looking at her lips, smiling at the flush that came to her cheeks. "Hermione-" he whispered huskily, leaning down closer to her face.

"Harry, we can't-" Hermione replied weakly, but did not move away.

"I know," he whispered regrettably, before his lips descended onto hers nevertheless. He knew that it was wrong in every sense of the word, but they had been so close, and she had wanted it as well. He was simply unable to restrain himself.

The kiss started slowly, as if they were attempting to remember the other's taste. Harry, without breaking the kiss, managed to lift Hermione from the ground and sit her on his lap. He wrapped his arms around her midsection, and held her close.

His heart began to beat faster and harder against his ribcage as she began to stroke his hair softly, moaning quietly against his lips.

They continued to kiss tenderly, until the lack of oxygen to their brains had begun to become an issue. They parted slightly to catch their breaths, but their lips continued to touch lightly.

Harry brushed his fingers lightly over the skin of her face, as he looked from her eyes to her lips. "I-I can't do this with you. W-We can't. I-I-" he whispered breathlessly.

Hermione laid a finger on his lips. "Shhh," she whispered, and then leaned into him, resting her head on his chest, as she sighed deeply.

They were going to be alright.

*~*~*~*

Meanwhile...

St. Mungo's,

London

"No, it can't be! You've got it wrong!" the young woman cried desperately at the Healer. I just came here for my routine exam. I feel nothing! You must have done something wrong!"

The Healer shook her head. "No, I did nothing wrong," she stated calmly. "And you haven't felt any symptoms yet, because it is too early."

"B-But I-I can't...This has to be wrong."

"I performed the test three times, Miss Brown. You are pregnant."

***