A/N: This is NOT a new chapter. Also, this isn't in journal entry form. An epilogue as well because of the requests.
"I'm not mad, Harry!"
"Yes, you are! It's written all over your face that you're downright pissed off with me!"
"Well, I'm not. Don't jump to conclusions."
"I'm sorry, all right?"
"I know you are."
"Then why don't you come down?"
"Hermione, you are mad."
"No, I'm not."
"Then get down from there."
"I—you'll think it's silly and laugh!"
"No, I won't. I love you and I'd never think you're silly and I would never laugh at you."
"Come on, tell me."
"I—I'm afraid of heights, okay?"
"Harry! You said you wouldn't laugh!"
"Yes, you are!"
"I'm not laughing at you, then."
"Yes, you are!"
"What I'm laughing at is how you managed to get up there when you're afraid of heights."
"I wasn't really thinking when I climbed—"
"Hermione Granger, not thinking?"
"—and I just felt like I needed to get away, you know? I wasn't really focusing on my fear."
" . . . When you say 'get away', are you referring to getting away from me?"
"No! No, of course not, Harry!"
"I didn't mean to tell."
"It just slipped out."
"I know that too."
"I love you,"
"I love you too."
"Then come down from that tree."
"I'm too scared."
"Then jump, I'll catch you."
"No. And stop holding out your arms, I'm not jumping!"
"Aw, come on, Hermione. Don't be a wet blanket."
"You know, now would be the perfect time to talk things out."
"About what I did."
"You didn't do anything."
"I told about what you were going to do! That was supposed to be a secret but I told anyway. You trusted me."
"I did and I still do."
"Well, we can talk about what happened in the battle."
"Don't give me that face."
"The sad face that makes me guilty all the time."
"I don't do it on purpose!"
"Hermione, don't cry!"
"You broke your promise."
"You pinky swore that you wouldn't turn yourself in."
"But you went off anyway, giving yourself up."
"Why did you go? You knew that you could get killed and you went anyway."
"Because I knew I wasn't going to die."
"Voldemort said you went with the intention of giving yourself up. You said you wanted to lay down your lives to save us."
"But did you think about me? How much it would hurt if you died?"
"I did think about it."
"Then why'd you go?"
"Hermione, please stop crying."
"No. Why'd you go?"
"Because I needed for that to happen. When Voldemort hit me with the Killing Curse, I knew I wasn't going to die because I had something to go back for. I had you and what you told me before you left."
"What did I tell you?"
"Was that all?"
"And that you love me."
"It hurt for me too, you know,"
"When I heard you scream, I wanted to jump out of Hagrid's arms and kiss you senseless to show you that I wasn't dead. It hurt for me because, in a way, I was lying to you. And then when I opened my eyes for just a little bit, I saw Neville hugging you and stroking your hair and stuff. I wanted to punch him. I wanted to kill him."
"I'm sorry for making you cry."
" . . . I'll just fetch someone to get you from up there."
"Right. Well, see you."
" . . . Harry!"
"Catch me, alright?"
"Catch me! I'm going to jump."
"Oh, now you're smiling."
"Oh, shut up and hold your arms out."
"How bossy, provided that you honestly think I'm going to catch with that attitude—"
"I'm jumping off!"
"Alright, stop laughing."
"Well, this is comfortable."
"Hmm, it most certainly is."
"Mmm—Harry, take your hand away from—!"
"You know I'm sorry, right?"
"I didn't mean to tell Ron and the others you were going to study in a Muggle university."
"I love you,"
"I know that too."
" . . . And?"
"I love you too."
Five Years Later:
"Are you really going to buy that book?"
Hermione Potter jumped, clearly startled, and hid away the book she was reading. Her husband, Harry Potter, grinned.
They were in Flourish & Blotts in Diagon Alley. Harry had left to see if there was a newer edition of Quidditch Through The Ages. Hermione had wandered around to the biographies and had found a biography on Harry titled, The Tricks Of The Trade: A Biography On Harry Potter by Rita Skeeter. She knew she needn't read it, but she couldn't control her curiosity and decided to flip through it. She was just in the middle of Harry's fourth year (which included the supposedly "steamy relationship" between she and Harry) when Harry popped up behind her.
"Er—buy what?" Hermione asked, looking innocently into his green eyes.
Harry grinned and placed his hands on his wife's waist. "Come on, Hermione, you can show what you're hiding," whispered Harry into her ear.
Hermione shivered, placing one of her hands on his chest. "Harry," whimpered Hermione, "not here, not now."
"Why not?" Harry asked, slipping his hand underneath her shirt and smoothing it over her soft skin. "No one can see us. We're in a hidden corner in the store, which you conveniently chose, might I add?"
Hermione moaned as he massaged her lower back seductively. "Harry, please. You're going to get us kicked out."
Then he claimed her lips. Hermione's knees buckled as Harry wove his tongue in and out of her mouth. Harry kept one arm around her waist and carefully sneaked the other behind her to pull the book out of her grasp. When he finally had it, he licked his tongue across Hermione's one last time then pulled back.
"Ha! I knew you were reading this!" Harry exclaimed, looking at the book's velvet cover. He traced his finger over the golden embossed words.
He glanced at Hermione, who was frowning heavily but she wasn't looking his way.
Harry softened his teasing look. "Hey—"
"Mum! Mum! I've found it! I've found the book I wanted!"
Hermione turned to see their son, James Colin running to them. He had the appearance of Harry completely, but he took up Hermione's personality. He was four-years-old and was smart enough to have started reading at an early age.
"That's great, James," said Hermione, bending down to tousle his hair. She winced a bit and clutched her flat stomach before smiling at her son. "How about you show it to me? Maybe I'll buy it."
James grinned toothily and took his mother's hand, leading her into a different section. Harry smiled slightly at the sight of them and followed them into the children's section.
After buying the book, they left the bookstore and began walking around in silence as James read his book happily. Harry glanced at Hermione, who was holding James's hand and keeping herself from making eye contact with Harry.
"How about we go for ice cream? We haven't been to Fortescue's in ages," suggested Harry, looking down at his son.
James immediately agreed, grinning even wider. Harry looked at Hermione. She had made no reaction, which was rather strange since she would usually object to it.
"Er—Hermione? What d'you say? Want to stop by Fortescue's?"
Hermione avoided his intense gaze and placed her hand on her stomach again. "I'm fine with anything." She murmured.
Harry looked at her concernedly and grabbed her hands, looking into her eyes. "I'm sorry, alright? I just wanted to see what you were reading."
Hermione smiled slightly. "It's not that. I forgive you for that, really. It's just that—"
"Dad, I thought we were going to buy ice cream?" asked James, staring up at them with his green eyes.
Harry sighed and looked at Hermione, who was looking rather pale and queasy. "Yeah, let's go."
When they were finally seated at Fortescue's, James instantly ordered his usual order. Harry ordered a sundae he and Hermione would always share but when he asked her if she wanted to share with him, she replied, "No thanks. I'm not really in the mood to eat anything."
Harry looked at her worriedly. "Hermione, what's wrong?"
"Nothing," replied Hermione without delay. "We'll talk about it later."
Harry nodded and waited for his order.
After their snack, Harry decided to go back home and none of his companions had any objections. When they arrived home, James rushed to his room to get started in the book while Harry and Hermione just stood in the entryway in silence.
Harry awkwardly cleared his throat. "Right. Well, it's almost time for dinner—"
"I'll start right now, then," said Hermione.
"Actually, I was thinking we eat out. Just the two of us, you know, like old times before we had James to take care of. We could get Ginny or Luna to watch over James or—"
"I'm not really in the mood for eating out. But if you'd like to, you can go with James."
Harry finally snapped and grabbed her shoulders. "Hermione, what's wrong? Was it something I did? Am I doing something wrong?" He demanded, looking into her shocked brown eyes.
Then Hermione burst out, crying and sobbing. Harry wasted no time in gathering her into his arms and kissing her head. He squeezed her gently before whispering into her ear her three favorite words she loved to hear from him.
"Oh, Harry," moaned Hermione, her voice muffled by his shirt. "I'm so s-sorry! Nothing's wrong with you. You didn't do anything wrong, you never do!"
Harry pulled her flush against his body and asked, "Then what's wrong? Are you sick? Is everything all right at work?"
Hermione nodded. "Yes, everything's fine at work. No, I'm not sick."
"Then what is it?" He asked. For a moment he thought something was wrong at work, but to his immense relief, there was nothing he had to be worried about. He had almost thought Hermione had a problem with him, since they were both Aurors and partners.
"I've just been feeling under the weather lately. I don't know! I've been getting sick lately, but when I asked a Healer to see if I had a disease or something along those lines, she said nothing was wrong with my body."
Harry pulled back and looked at her red face. "Why don't we take you to St. Mungo's? Surely, they can find what's wrong."
"I already did."
"And? What's wrong?"
Hermione smiled shakily. "H-Harry, I'm pregnant."
The look Harry had on his face was priceless. It was a mixture of shock and happiness at the same time. "R-really? You're pregnant? How far along are you?"
"About a month and a half."
"Hermione, this is great! This is brilliant!" Harry exclaimed, carrying her and twirling her around before finally kissing her.
When he finally put her down, he pulled her to him and whispered, "D'you think—?"
"Yes, Harry, I'm allowed to." Hermione was grinning now.
Then with a grin, he carried her in his arms and went up the stairs. A few moments later, the door to their bedroom was shut and locked.
A/N: Not entirely satisfied with it, but whatever. Please leave any reviews or comments.