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Hermione held her books close to her chest as she made her way down Diagon Alley. The afternoon sun shone down from above with a soft warmth. The summer breeze kept the city cool, despite it being the middle of summer.
Hermione’s heels clicked against the cobble streets as she made her way to the little pastry shop that had newly opened. She only had thirty minutes for her break and she was in desperate need of a pastry and a latte.
The bell rang above her head as she ducked into the bright, little shop. It was decorated in crisp whites and the lightest accent of a blush pink. The colour came from the pastry. Little tarts were decorated with fresh fruits, croissants stuffed with jams, and quiches filled with greens and cheese.
Hermione stepped up to the display case and felt the hollowness of her stomach clench with want.
“Hi, what can I get for you?”
Hermione looked up and her eyes caught on the bright, glittering hazel colour of the eyes staring back. She felt a zing of magic run up her spine and fill her chest. Hermione faltered as the man also seemed to be lost for words.
“Hi,” she greeted breathlessly.
The man, tall and broad-shouldered with dark black curls, tilted his head as he smiled charmingly. “Hi.” He righted his large, square glasses before he stuck his hand out over the counter. “James Potter.”
Hermione’s eyes widened as she shook his much larger hand. “Oh! You’re the owner of the shop, aren’t you?”
“I am,” he stated proudly.
“It’s beautiful,” she told him, unable to tear her eyes away from his square jawline and dark beard.
“Thank you.” His eyes trailed across her face.
“I’ve been craving pastry all morning.”
James rested his hands against the top of the display case. Hermione tried not to be distracted by his arms. Merlin, bakers were well built, weren’t they?
“Well, we can’t let you leave disappointed, can we?”
Hermione swallowed, at a loss for words. Her face felt as hot as the sun.
“What can I get for you?” he asked, that same charming smile from before spread across his face.
Hermione blinked widely. “I- uh…” She forced herself to look down at the pastry. She could feel his eyes on her as she desperately scrambled for an order. “A quiche, please? And a pain au chocolat ?”
James raised an eyebrow. “That’s quite the accent.”
“I’m half French.”
He made a face as he bagged the pastry. “I don’t know if I want to give you a croissant, then. You’ll actually know if it’s good or not.”
She grinned. “I’ll eat it with an open mind.”
James made a pained noise. “I’m going to be worried about this all day. I hate selling to the French. They know pastry.”
She shook her head, a small smile on her face. “I can’t make pastry, so I’m not one to judge.”
He scoffed. “That’s the ‘only half French’ coming out.”
Hermione laughed. “Yes, my mother always has a lot to say about any French pastry we have.”
“I’m sure. Anything else, today?” He quirked an eyebrow at her.
Hermione blinked. She tried to remember what she’d already ordered. “A latte?”
“Coming right up.”
She watched him set up the espresso machine and pour milk into a pitcher.
“Are you here alone?”
“The bakers are in the back,” he told her over his shoulder as he worked. “I like to work up in the front. Meet the customers.” He shot her a charming grin as the milk frothed.
Hermione smiled. “How’re you enjoying it in Diagon? Has it been busy?”
“Crazy. You’ve come just before the next rush. You’re lucky. Normally, there’s a line out the door.” He set her latte on the counter in a to-go cup.
“That’s great. I’m glad it’s going so well.”
She set some money on the counter and picked up her pastries and drink, juggling them with the books she was carrying with her. She tipped her head in thanks. “I’ll send my review to the Prophet by the end of the day.”
“Oh god , please don’t.”
Hermione laughed. “Nice to meet you, James.”
“Yeah. Yeah, hey!”
She turned, halfway out the door.
“I didn’t get your name.”
“Hermione. Hermione Granger.”
He winked. “See you ‘round, Hermione.”
Hermione smiled and stepped out of the shop, the bell jingling above her as she went.
~*~
Hermione went back again the next day. She couldn’t help but smile when she saw James there, putting fresh slices of chocolate cake into the display. He looked up when the bell rang and a smile spread across his face at the sight of her. There were more people there today, chatting excitedly as they waited.
Hermione cast a look across the line. She didn’t have enough time to wait. She sent James a look of apology as she turned, but he raised a hand and she paused.
“Same as yesterday?” he asked while his employee took the next order.
Hermione nodded.
“I’ll get it for you.”
Hermione waited, standing to the side while the other employee rang up and gathered the other customers’ orders. More people came in as James made her a latte.
“Here,” he said as he handed over the order.
Hermione already had her money ready.
“It’s fine, you’ll be back tomorrow, right?”
Hermione blushed at the expectant, hopeful look on James’ face. “I- I plan to, yes. Here.” She tried to hand him a few sickles.
“It’s fine. Consider it an incentive.”
Hermione set the money on the counter. “I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble with the boss.”
James sighed theatrically. “He is a hard ass.”
She grinned. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”
“Wait- I uh… I’m sheeting tomorrow.”
Hermione raised an eyebrow. “James, I sell books, I don’t know what that means.”
He grinned and ran a hand through his curly black hair. “I’ll be in the kitchen working on croissant dough all day. I’ll be in the back.”
Hermione nodded. She tried to hide her disappointment. “Okay.”
“Right. So just, come round when you get here.”
Her eyebrows raised. “I’m sorry?”
“To the back. Just through the door there.” He gestured to a pink door. “You can… have lunch here, maybe?”
“It would be a short lunch. I’m only off for thirty minutes.”
“That’s fine. I mean, if it’s fine with you?”
“It is,” she decided immediately. She smiled softly. “I’ll see you tomorrow, James.”
James grinned widely. “See you, Hermione.”
The next day, Hermione nervously made her way into the pastry shop. She’d worn her favourite periwinkle blue sundress and put little clips in her hair. She’d touched up her makeup before leaving the bookstore and making her way over.
Was this a date? It felt like a date. She’d never been on a date like this before. Perhaps she should ask him to dinner after if all of this went well.
There was a line outside the shop today. Hermione tried not to feel terrible as she entered the store ahead of all the people waiting. The employee behind the counter smiled and nodded at her.
He gestured to the pink door. “Go on, I’ll bring you a latte.”
“Thank you.”
Hermione stepped through the door and found herself at the entrance of a kitchen. There was a big standing oven to the right and a big stand mixer to the left. Throughout the kitchen were long metal tables. Beside one of those tables was James with a large sheeter opened up, which he operated with ease. The sheeter was a big metal contraption with some sort of little white conveyor belt that extended shortly out of both sides.
James looked up when she entered the kitchen. A bright smile spread across his face.
“Hi.”
Hermione waved. “Hi.”
“You look beautiful today.”
Hermione’s cheeks burned. “Thank you.”
He gestured her forward. “Come in. There’s a chair there for you.”
He pointed to a seat across the table. Hermione went over and sat down on the little stool that had been provided. There was a small selection of pastries sitting in front of her.
“I put a plate together,” James explained as he rolled out a large rectangle of dough with a rolling pin. “A few savouries, a few sweets.”
“You didn’t have to do this.”
The corner of his mouth curled upward. “I know. I wanted to.”
“You’re working ,” she insisted.
James shrugged. “I just opened my own business, I’m always working. Now pick something to eat. We’re working on limited time.”
Hermione turned to the pastry selection before her. She picked up a savoury-looking one that was bright red.
“That’s roasted beets with a goat cheese spread and topped with fresh dill.”
Hermione took a bite and her eyes fell shut. “Oh my god .”
James laughed. Hermione immediately took another bite.
“Is this croissant dough as the base?”
He nodded.
“It’s so good. I love your croissants.”
James beamed. “Thank you.” He turned to the sheeter and Hermione watched with fascination as he ran the dough through to the other side and back again. Each time, the dough got thinner and longer. Eventually, he was able to stretch it across his long metal work table, where he began to trim and measure the dough.
“What’re you making?”
“I’m doing chocolate croissants now. After, I’ve got a double batch of butter that I’ve got to do.”
“Is it hard?”
He shook his head. “Croissants are pretty standard, especially when you’re making a bunch of them every day.”
Hermione raised her eyebrows. “Are you going through a lot? There’s more and more people outside every day.”
“Croissants are flying off the shelves. Trial and error with some things. But… It's good. It’s really good.” He sounded happy as he said it, settled.
“I’m not surprised. Your pastries are delicious. You have a real gift.”
James grinned. “Thanks. Now, enough about croissants. How about you? What do you do? You work in Diagon too?”
“I manage Flourish and Blotts. The owner doesn’t have much desire to be involved anymore. He’s getting on. I take care of things for the most part.”
“Do you like it?”
Hermione's smile widened. “I love it. Books are my passion.”
James’ smile was warm at that proclamation.
~*~
They fell in love. It was as simple as that. James took Hermione on walks through the park after work and they stopped in used bookstores. James had an intense focus about him that drew Hermione in. He could dedicate himself to just one single thing with infinite attention. Often, that focus was on pastry and the bakery. But when they were together, James' attention would shift to her.
Hermione's chest fluttered and her cheeks burned every time she had his attention. He would run his figners through her hair and pull her close to whisper sweet nothings in her ear. He was the most hopeless of romantics she had ever met and Hermione found herself falling for him harder than she had ever fallen for anyone.
She went from spending most nights alone with a cup of tea and a good book to spending it with James. He took her to different restaurants and pastry shops. He seemed to know everyone in the culinary industry. They were treated incredibly at every restaurant they went to, often with the chef coming out to greet James like an old friend.
In turn, Hermione took James to musicals and spoken-word poetry nights at different bookstores. James was infatuated with muggle musicals. Anything muggle was interesting to him. While he wasn't a stranger to the muggle world, he wasn't as familiar with it as she was. Hermione enjoyed introducing him to aspects of the world she grew up with it. He was the first partner she'd had form the wizarding world that was open to it.
~*~
Hermione sat curled into James’ side on the couch in her living room. Some Like it Hot played on her Tele. Old movies were becoming a new obsession of James’ after Hermione introduced him to Breakfast at Tiffany's .
“Let’s buy it.”
Hermione looked up from her book. “What?”
“The bookstore. Flourish is retiring, you said. He hasn’t announced it yet, but he’s friends with my parents and-”
“-You want to buy it?” Hermione sat up and turned so she could look James in the eye.
He nodded, a familiar look of serious intensity on his face. “The pastry shop is doing great, but it’s only a popup – the landlord is selling the space to a restaurant at the end of the winter season. If we buy the bookstore, we can use the space above as a kitchen. Half pastry, half books. Like a little book, pastry, and coffee shop all rolled into one. You take care of the books, I’ll run the pastry and coffee.”
Hermione stared at him, eyes wide with wonder.
“What do you think?”
“I love you.”
James’ eyes widened. He smiled. “I love you too. I’m not even going to be upset that you said it first. I promise.”
She laughed. “Let’s do it. I mean, I don’t know if we can do it, but let’s look into it. Let’s talk to Flourish before he puts it up.”
James wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her in for a kiss.
~*~
The shop re-opened the following summer. They spent the spring renovating the ground floor, providing space for the display counters, till, and espresso bar. Space was allocated for a sitting area, a collection of comfortable chairs and tables to work at.
The kitchen took the longest to get set up. James created a magical dumbwaiter system to allow the kitchen to send down fresh pastries as they were made. Hot cookies, straight from the oven, were one of their best sellers. They sold hundreds of cookies in a single day.
The increase in traffic due to coffee drinkers and pastry buyers brought up the book sales. Hermione expanded the collection, selling both new and used books in the store for better affordability. James and Hermione moved in together into a cottage just a short floo or apparate away from Diagon Alley.
The cottage was surrounded by fields of grass and dotted with colourful flowers. There was a lake a short walk away that they went to on the hottest days of summer. The cool waters helped against the unrelenting heat.
Two years after opening their bakery, Hermione and James got married. They eloped. It was just the two of them, off on a little trip in Ireland while their employees ran the shop. They returned with rings on their fingers and hearts in their eyes.
They didn’t need a big ceremony. They didn’t need an expensive dress and James flat-out refused to pay for a wedding cake when he could make a better one himself. They would celebrate with their friends and family over a summer barbeque or something similar. They didn’t need a whole big thing. They just needed each other.
~*~
James wrapped his arms around Hermione’s stomach and pulled her back flush against his front. He pressed hot kisses to the back and side of her neck.
“James,” she whined, torn between annoyed and aroused. “It’s too hot.”
“It’s summer.”
“This heatwave is relentless,” she complained.
Britain just kept getting hotter and hotter each summer. She could barely remember the winter at this point. It had been mild, she recalled distantly.
“You know what would fix that?” James asked, lips pressed to her hot skin.
“An ice bath?”
“A baby.”
Hermione snorted. She looked over her shoulder at her husband. “Excuse me?”
“Think about it, if you get pregnant now , then you won’t be uncomfortable for next summer. You’ll have a winter pregnancy, much better.”
Hermione raised an eyebrow, amusement tugging at her lips. “Oh, and that’ll make the summer more bearable?”
“I’m not sure, so we should try it and see.”
She raised her eyebrows.
James' smile was wide and far too charismatic for Hermione's good. “In the spirit of scientific research, of course.”
Hermione laughed. She turned over onto her back, still in the comforting embrace of her husband. “Are you serious?”
“That would make this conversation very confusing.”
She swatted his chest with the back of her hand. “ James .”
He pressed a soft kiss to her lips. “I want to have a baby with you. Honestly, I want to have several, but we can start with the one and go from there.”
Hermione curled her fingers into his dark hair. She imagined a baby between them with ridiculous dark curls and dark brown eyes. Would they have James’ long lashes? Hermione’s button nose?
“James.”
“Yes, love?”
“Take your trousers off.”
James smirked triumphantly. “Yes, ma’am.”
~*~
Hermione opened her eyes. She felt groggy and weighed down. Her entire body was stiff as if she'd slept for far too long. Hermione groaned.
“Hermione? Hermione!" Harry shouted from above her. "Ron, get a healer! Hermione.”
She blinked sluggishly. Finally, Harry’s face came into focus above her.
“H- Harry?” she croaked, throat beyond dry.
Harry was crying. He smiled widely. “Hey, don’t move. Just relax. You’re okay- you’re gonna be okay.”
“W- what-?”
~*~
She had been in a coma, she learned. She’d been asleep for a total of four months following an accident in the Department of Mysteries. They weren’t sure if she’d ever wake up. They’d eventually found a correlation between her body temperature and some aspect of the curse. They’d slowly and steadily raised her temperature to a controlled fever, which burnt off the effects of the curse.
Fever. Heat.
The unrelenting summer heat.
Hermione had been asleep for four months, but it felt like four years. She’d gotten married. Bought a house. She had a whole life.
“It’s just the way you left it,” Harry told her as he showed her into her room at Grimmauld Place.
She had lost her apartment, but Harry had collected everything and brought it back to the house for her. She had a room at his place anyway, so it wasn’t the worst thing. And the healers didn’t want her to be alone. She needed to be monitored in case her health began to backslide.
There wasn’t a risk she’d go back into a coma, but Hermione almost wished it would happen. She closed her eyes and could feel the press of James’ body against her own. Smell the fresh baked croissant smell that seemed to permeate the air around him.
She sat on her bed, alone, and ran her thumb across her ring finger. She missed the feel of her wedding band. Had she ever taken it off in the dream?
A lot of things weren’t making sense from the dream anymore.
She couldn’t remember where she had lived before she and James bought the cottage. She couldn’t remember what spring, autumn, or winter had been like. She didn’t remember sleeping or getting sick.
It was a dream. Completely real until she wasn’t in it anymore.
Hermione fell back against the bed. She tried not to cry.
Leave it to her to fall in love with a figment of her imagination in a dream. Only Hermione Granger.
~*~
Harry and Ron were so relieved to have her back. All the Weasleys as well. They came to visit at different times. She appreciated them spreading it out. She didn’t think she could handle it if they ambushed her as a single unit. As far as Hermione was able to remember, she’d only spent time with one person for the last four years.
“Are you okay?” Harry asked, not for the first time.
“Tired.”
“Don’t know how you could be,” Ron quipped, mouth full of pasta.
Harry shot him a look.
“What? She was asleep for months.”
“She was in a coma , Ron. That’s not the same thing. And she was sick. It makes sense to still be tired.”
“It’s been weeks since she woke up,” Ron argued.
“Ron.”
The red-head shrugged. “I’m just saying, maybe she’s tired for another reason.”
Hermione tensed. She blinked slowly.
Harry and Ron turned to her. “Hermione?” Harry pressed gently.
Hermione jumped to her feet and rushed from the kitchen.
“Hermione!”
“Now you’ve done it,” Harry scolded.
“I didn’t do anything!” Ron shouted as they chased after her, up the stairs and to her bedroom.
“Hermione,” Harry pleaded as she pulled books from the shelves. “Hermione, love, talk to us.”
“Yeah, tell Harry it wasn’t my fault.”
Harry turned and glared at Ron.
Ron shrugged. “What?”
Hermione interrupted them before Harry could respond. She shoved an open book into Harry’s hands.
“Cast this spell.”
“What?”
She pointed. “This spell. Cast it on me. Now.”
Harry frowned down at the book. Ron leaned in over his shoulder. Ron’s eyebrows shot upward and his face turned red.
Harry slowly shook his head. “Hermione, this isn’t- we were there. Someone was always at your bedside. You weren’t- nothing happened. I promise.”
“Cast the damn spell, Potter,” she snapped.
Harry sighed. “Okay. Sure.” He handed the book to Ron and drew his wand. He cast the spell to see if she was pregnant.
A little golden light glowed above Hermione’s lower abdomen.
The room fell silent.
“Oh my god,” Hermione gasped. “It was real. It was real .”
“What the- Hermione? How is this- how?”
She began pacing as her thoughts raced in her head. “It was actually real! The implications of that- but that means-”
“-Hermione!” Harry shouted.
Hermione stopped rambling. She looked up at her two best friends who were staring at her with no small amount of horror.
“What the fuck is going on?” Harry slowly asked.
“It wasn’t four months,” she told them. “It was four years. For me. It was four years. I wasn’t- I wasn’t asleep. I was living my life. I had a life. I had a job. I met- I fell in love. We wanted to have a baby.”
Ron reeled back. “You’re having a dream baby?”
“No! You see, it wasn’t a dream.” She gestured to Harry’s wand. “It was real.”
Harry stepped forward. He gently wrapped his hands around her upper arms. “Hermione, you were in a coma.”
“Yes, Harry, and you died. But you went somewhere when you did, right?”
Harry’s eyes narrowed. “Right.”
“Who’s to say there aren’t other places? There aren’t any other… I don’t- realities? I don’t think I was really asleep and I don’t think I was alone there.”
“First things first,” Ron cut in.
They turned to him.
“We need to get you checked out by a healer. Then, if this is a real baby and not a dream baby… then there’s some bloke lost in some weird reality and he also happens to be your baby daddy.”
Hermione’s eyes widened. “You’re going to help me bring him here?”
Ron shrugged. “First things first.”
“Right,” Harry agreed, voice tense. “Let’s go to a healer.”
~*~
The baby was real.
Hermione sat on the medical table, tears streaming down her cheeks as she stared at the little magical projection of her baby. Their baby. It was real.
Harry and Ron couldn’t hide how absolutely confused and disturbed they were by it all. They remained supportive, but Hermione saw the wide-eyed looks they gave each other behind her back. They were still wrapping their heads around it.
“Why didn’t you mention anything?” Harry asked late at night while they sat on the couch together.
Ron was snoring from one end, legs half dangling off the edge of the couch as he stretched out. Hermione sat between them, Ron's head in her lap and Harry pressed against her side.
“I thought it was a dream.”
“But you missed him, right? You said you fell in love.” He continued in a quiet voice, “We’re best friends.”
She took his hand and squeezed it. “I know… it’s complicated. And… confusing. The world was… not normal.”
He turned his head toward her. “What do you mean?”
“It had a sort of dreamlike quality to it that I didn’t really notice until I was out of it. There wasn’t really anybody else around. Just the two of us. Anyone else was just sort of… faceless. I didn’t really notice how they weren’t actually there. Scenes skipped around, like a movie or a story. Time moved quickly. It was only ever summertime. Really hot, just all the time.”
“The fever.”
“Yeah. Everything just always worked in our favour. It was just us, spending time together. Falling in love. Living our life.”
“We know him.”
Hermione’s head shot up, eyes wide. “What?”
“You won’t say his name. It’s because we know him.” He stared at her. “Who was it?”
Hermione swallowed. “James Potter.”
Harry’s eyes widened. He sat forward. “You shagged my dad ?” He sounded more amused than horrified.
Hermione shoved his shoulder. “No! He wasn’t your dad. It wasn’t- it’s not like you didn’t exist in the dream. You weren’t there, but I remembered you. You and Ron were still my best friends. But the connection between you and James just… didn’t exist? I don’t know. He wasn’t married until he married me.”
“You married my dad .”
“He’s not your dad,” Hermione responded flatly.
Harry hummed as he considered that. “Like an alternate reality version of him?”
She shrugged. “Yeah, I suppose.”
“Do you think he’s still there?”
“Where?”
Harry gestured. “In that little limbo place between worlds that you were in?”
“I don’t know… I guess, I hope he woke up too.”
Harry hummed as he stared into the fire, eyes distant. “Yeah, probably.”
~*~
James spun around and came to a stop when he saw someone standing in the bedroom with him. He was a thin man, wiry, and with dark hair and bright green eyes.
“Who the hell are you?” James demanded. “How did you get in here?”
The man looked around. His eyes trailed across the bed to the window and the pictures on the wall.
“Harry.”
James frowned. Something niggled like a memory in the back of his head. “Hermione’s friend?”
Harry turned back to him, eyes sharp and piercing. He had a wand and something else grasped in one hand, the other was filled with a shiny blanket of some sort that looked familiar.
James stepped closer. “Do you know where she is? Have you spoken to her?”
“How long has she been gone?”
James gestured wildly. “Months! I can’t find her. I don’t know what’s happened. I don’t know what I did wrong.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong… James. She’s fine. She wants to see you.”
James practically leaped forward. His heart clenched in his chest. She wanted to see him .
“Yes! Take me to her, please. I need to apologise. I don’t know what’s wrong, but we’ll work it out. We can fix it.”
Harry stepped around him. He took a closer look at the pictures on the wall. Photos of Hermione and James by the lake together. A photo of them in the old pastry kitchen together before they bought the bookshop. Hermione’s bright smile filled the photos with warmth.
Harry spun his wand around his fingers. It was long and pale. It looked oddly familiar to James.
“Your wand.”
Harry looked over at him.
“It looks like a wand an old professor of mine had.”
He raised a dark eyebrow at James. “Does it?”
“Yes.” James’ head felt a little funny.
Harry turned to face him fully. He held up his other hand. “What about this?”
James’ eyes lit up. “The Cloak of Invisibility! Where did you get this? I thought I- I must have lost it… years ago.” James looked up and met Harry’s steely gaze. “Who are you?”
“The Master of Death.”
James felt the world shift around him. The warm summer light seeped from the room. The soft creams and yellows of the bedroom bled to pale, dry tones. The room filled with a bone-chilling coldness.
“W- what?”
Harry stepped closer. “This is a limbo, James. This isn’t real. You’re dying here.”
James looked around. He swallowed thickly. The walls of the cottage melted away. The fields of grass beyond looked dried and dead.
“You have to leave,” Harry told him, his voice echoing.
“I can’t- I can’t leave without Hermione! I have to find her.”
Harry slowly shook his head. “She already left. She was brought back to her world. She’s alive. She’s living again. I can bring you back too, but it won’t be to where you were before.”
James frowned. “What?”
“Do you remember?”
James’ eyes slammed shut as memories flew through his mind. His parents. Hogwarts. Graduation. His parents’ funeral. Peter moved to Australia with his wife. Sirius’ addictions to drugs and alcohol became more concerning. Lily and he broke up before even getting engaged. Remus getting married existed like a bright shining star in his memory. Sirius had been good. Everything had been okay. Then Sirius died from a drug overdose. Remus moved away. James worked. More work. He would fall asleep in his office. Endless work. Alone in his flat. His memories grew dark and fuzzy.
And then Hermione. Bright and burning. Colourful. So full of life. Her smile. Her laughter. The smell of lavender that surrounded her. The feeling of completeness as he held her in his arms.
“So?” Harry pressed when James opened his eyes again, tears running down his cheeks. “What will it be?”
James didn’t hesitate. “Take me to Hermione.”
~*~
James gasped awake. His entire body hurt. Every nerve ending felt like it was on fire.
“Easy. Easy does it,” a familiar voice soothed.
James turned his head and found Harry leaning over him, still with those piercing green eyes.
“Come on, drink this.”
Harry pressed a potion to James' lips. He drank it down without thought.
“Better?”
James groaned.
Harry chuckled. “Good, now put this robe on. We have to get moving before someone finds us because what we just did was very fucking illegal.”
“I didn’t agree to illegal,” James groused as Harry helped him to his feet. He threw the robe on.
“Oh, excuse me for thinking James fucking Potter wouldn’t care about legalities.”
James frowned at Harry. “Do I know you?”
Harry snorted. “I’m gonna need so much therapy.”
He pulled James’ arm over his shoulder and half carried the man towards the door of the dark chamber they were in.
“Where are we?” he asked.
“Chamber of Death. We need to make it to the atrium, down the lift, and out the floo. Then we’re home free.”
James nodded. “What happens if we get caught?”
“Nothing good. I’ve got the cloak though, just in case.”
They reached the atrium and James closed his eyes as the doors spun around them. Once it stopped, Harry led them to the lifts and inside. He pressed the button for the ground floor.
James looked over at the younger man. “How did you get the cloak?”
Harry stared ahead and didn’t say anything.
“It’s a family heirloom,” James pressed.
Harry turned his head to face him, face set. “I’m aware.”
James felt a shiver run down his spine. They looked alike. It was undeniable how similar he and this Harry looked. This Master of Death .
“Where’s Hermione?”
“Home.” The lift dinged and a voice announced that they had reached the main atrium. “Come on. She doesn’t know I did this.”
“Will she be mad?”
Harry huffed, amusement clear in the sound. “Furious. But I wasn’t going to let her try and get involved.”
“She’s brilliant. Could have helped, probably.”
Harry hesitated in front of the floo. James pressed a hand to the wall and finally managed to support himself.
Harry stared at him for a moment, conflicted. Finally, he said, “I didn’t want to risk it… she’s… she’s pregnant.”
James tensed. His eyes widened. “What?” he breathed.
He nodded to the floo. “Grimmauld Place.”
“Why is she there ?”
What a god-awful place to live. Sirius had burnt the thing down after his mother died. James couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to live there.
“My godfather left it to me.”
James’ mind reeled.
“Your-” -James shook his head. “Who are you?”
"It's complicated." Harry shook his head. “And honestly? It doesn’t matter. You’re from an alternate reality, James. This world is very different. Just go to her. Please. Before we get arrested.”
James didn’t need any more encouragement. He grabbed a handful of floo powder and shouted for Grimmauld Place. He stumbled out of the fireplace and just managed to stay on his feet. He took a deep breath as his head stopped spinning. The floo activated again and Harry stumbled through after him.
“Where is she?” he demanded.
Harry looked around. “This way.”
He led James upstairs. A door was open, light filtering through. He gestured for James to wait. Harry entered first.
“Hermione?" James heard Harry whisper. "Hermione, love, wake up.”
“H-Harry?” Hermione’s sleepy voice responded.
James felt his breath catch. He peered through the door. Harry was kneeling beside a couch. James could just see the top of Hermione’s curly head of hair in the light from the fireplace.
“Wake up, come on.” Harry’s face and voice were soft. His love for Hermione was obvious to James as he gently woke her from her sleep.
“What time is it?” Hermione complained as she sat up.
Harry grinned lopsidedly. It struck James again just how similar that smile was to his own. His gut twisted.
“So late that it’s probably early. I did something,” Harry admitted.
“What? Harry, what did you-”
“-It’s fine. I’m not hurt. No one is hurt. It worked-”
“-Harry James Potter, you tell me what you did this instant .”
James choked. Harry James Potter? Complicated, Harry had said. He really undersold it, hadn’t he?
Hermione’s head whipped around at the sound of another person. Her eyes widened.
“James?”
“Hi, honey, I’m home.”
Hermione burst into tears.
James rushed into the room. He knelt down beside Harry and wrapped his hands around Hermione’s upper arms. “No, no, no, don’t cry. Hermione, please don’t cry.”
“You’re here.” She cupped his face in her hands, tears streaming down her cheeks. “How are you here? Harry! What did you do?”
“Nothing that can be traced back to me." He tilted his head. "Hopefully. I’m gonna go get rid of the Deathly Hallows while you two reunite.”
Her eyes widened. “The Deathly- Harry! We are having a very long talk when you get back.”
Harry smirked. “What? You think you can boss me around because you’re shagging my dad?”
Hermione’s face turned red. James made a strangled sound.
Harry laughed. He pressed a kiss to Hermione’s head. “I’ll be back in a bit. Don’t shag on my couch.”
Hermione rolled her eyes. “You’re the worst. Thank you,” she finished, voice soft.
Harry smiled. “You’d do it for me.”
“In a heartbeat.”
Harry stood and left the room. James watched him go before turning his attention back to Hermione.
“ Dad? ”
She visibly winced. “It’s complicated.”
James widened his eyes. “Understatement of the century.”
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. He should have explained before bringing you here. It’s not fair to you, not knowing what you’re getting into.”
James gently cupped Hermione's cheek. “He gave me a choice, Hermione. I chose you. Of course I chose you. And now our baby . It is- it is? ”
She nodded. “It is. I don’t know how, but it is.”
He slipped his hand around to the back of her head and pressed a long, chaste kiss against her lips.
“How could I ever choose anything that wasn’t you?” he whispered.
“I love you,” she sobbed.
He shook his head even as he couldn’t stop smiling. “You said it first again. This time, I’m a little upset.”
She laughed, light and watery.
“I love you too.”
THE END